


One Normal Day

by spikealicious



Series: One Normal Day, One Normal Life, Two Extraordinary Lives [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikealicious/pseuds/spikealicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uncomfortable with the questions Spike has posed regarding where Wood fits in, Buffy goes off to patrol. Distracted and tired, she gets bested by a couple of fleglings. Spike rescues her, and talks her into going away overnight, to a cabin he owns in Julian. How he comes to own it, his nearly half-century relationship to the old woman who runs The Rittenhouse Restaurant, and her family, and how Clem and Spike became friends comes out. Buffy realizes the feelings she has for Spike, as they try to make the most out of the weekend, before the inevitable battle with The First.</p><p>Feedback most welcome :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. BAD DAY

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in 2003 on spikealicious.com and other sites. Re-edited for here.

CHAPTER 1 – BAD DAY

Buffy sat on the couch deep in thought on all that had transpired tonight.

It had been a great first date with her boss, cum son-of-a-former-slayer. Oh yeah, just great.

From the corner of her eye, Buffy could see Spike move into the living room, before tentatively taking a seat on the couch near her. He'd asked her if she had heard what had happened at the house tonight, with The First appearing to Andrew in the guise of Jonathon. She told him she had. He told her that Andrew had told him The First said it wasn't _time_ for him yet.

"I should move out. Leave town before it is time for me," Spike said softly.

"No, you have to stay," Buffy said simply, although the gut-wrenching feeling those words made her feel were anything but simple.

"You've got another demon fighter now," he argued.

"That's not why I need you here."

"Is that right? Why's that then?" Spike asked, cocking his head towards her, his eyes searching for something.

" 'Cause I'm not ready for you to not be here," she replied. She stole a glance at him, but quickly looked away.

He had asked, and she had told him. God only knows, to the best of her ability she had told him.

Yet still, he pushed her, looking at her with those expectant puppy dog eyes, soon clouded over by doubt.

"And the Principal?" Spike had asked. "How's he fit in?"

She could see the wheels turning in that strange brain of his.

What could she tell him? That Wood was possibly a man she could count on to help with the demon fighting, or that, yeah, he was attractive to her. Sort of. The truth was that more likely it was a case of keeping your enemies close; both hers and Spike's. She'd had a very bad feeling rise in the pit of her stomach when Wood told her how his mother had been killed. Later, he'd had acted just a little too strange around Spike, stranger than just somebody who didn’t have vampires as friends.

Keep your friends close; your enemies, closer.

Isn't that what she'd always done. Spike should know that, intimately.

Only they weren't enemies anymore. Friends? Would she call him her friend if someone asked her? Was there a word in English that could be descriptive enough to cover all that they had been to each other; past, present; _future?_

Didn't Spike _know_ that Wood would never 'fit' in? Not like he did, not even close to how he 'fit' into her life now. Piece of the puzzle – hers, his.

It was unbelievable to her that Spike that was putting her under pressure, (like she didn't already have enough?) to define all this to him, to reassure him that he’s needed, that he ‘fits’ in, belongs.

Doesn't he already get that?

They sat in silence on the couch, each of them only taking sidelong glances at each other.

　

Spike had been stunned to hear what Buffy had said to him, "No, you have to stay, .... not why I need you here, ...because I'm not ready for you to not be here..."

He thought he’d handled himself quite well today. What with having learned that Buffy had a date and all that, "My eyes are clear," he’d told her. Believed it himself at the moment, too, stupid git that he was.

'Why shouldn’t she have a normal date, like a girl? Fellow wants to take her to a nice restaurant,' he’d reasoned with himself ealier. 'Never going to work ‘tween you and her anyway, mate.'

However, during the time she was out, he’d nearly climbed out of his own skin anxious as he was, all the while furtively glancing at the clock every two minutes. Where the hell was a smoke when you needed one?

He’d been all too happy to go and find her when ‘the boy’ found himself in a bad situation.

At the restaurant, Spike stood there waiting for Buffy to acknowledge him, while to the pricipal she nearly cooed,"Oh, this is possibly the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth."

"What do you want?" She'd quickly asked him, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. For once, Spike kept the smirk off his face and innuendo out of his voice at the memories that statement served up. Best thing, indeed, Slayer! Instead, he got right to the point. They'd gone, they'd rescued, they'd conquered the demon. Rather, she had done most the conquering and rescuing...which brought Spike to a quandry.

He knew in his heart that if only she’d had her phone with her, Buffy could've easily handled the night's problems herself. He’d mostly only gotten in the way, and she really didn’t need him for his fighting skills these days. Then why did she want him to stay? He looked at her again, questioningly.

Buffy saw him looking at her again and could feel her blood beginning to boil.

 __

 _ENOUGH!_

She just had to get out of there for a while. Buffy got up and started walked over to the weapon’s chest.

"Where’re you going? Spike asked her.

"Out. Do a little patrol," she answered, not looking at him.

"I’ll come along," Spike said.

"NO!" Buffy said rougher than she intended, "I mean, no. You should stay; you can be on guard here. Okay?" she said, looking at him.

"Sure, whatever you want, pet," Spike said, feeling a bit hurt.

Buffy hurried out into the night. At least she could handle a couple of rogue demons or vamps. What she couldn’t handle were the feelings that Spike was always bringing up in her. Not now. Not with everything so uncertain. No time for that kind of thing.

Would there ever be a ‘time’ for that sort of thing? Whatever _that_ sort of thing was. One thing she was sure of – she’d not had any time for anything remotely normal in over seven years.

And now with The First, there certainly was no time for anything resembling normal...or even a vague resemblance of normal.

All she knew was that time was running out. Not so much on having a normal life - she figured that ship had long ago sailed, but on having any life...the chance just to be.

Buffy walked along, pondering the very things that she’d left the house in order to forget about. As she did, two vampires watched her from behind Spike’s old crypt as she made her rounds of the cemetery.

~~~~~~~

Spike paced restlessly around the house. He’d wanted to go on patrol with Buffy, but he'd known that she'd left more to get away from him than to keep the few remaining Sunnydale demons in check. After all, with The First in town, most had fled or were keeping a low profile. Still, that fact didn't quell his unease.

"Bugger!" he said to himself, as he walked down the basement stairs. "Really should get out of this town!"

Knew he wouldn’t though, not if she wanted him here. Never. Even if it wound up killing him.

He lay down for a few minutes, closing his eyes. Less than ten minutes later he jolted upright.

~~~~~~~~~

"What, what is it?" Giles asked Spike sleepily, who’d shaken him awake.

"You’re on guard duty. Going to find Buffy; somethin’s wrong, " Spike said.

"She went out? Why didn’t you stop her? Go with her?" Giles said, getting up off the cot in the spare bedroom Xander had erected downstairs.

"You ever stop the slayer from doing just what she wanted to?" Spike asked, giving Giles a dirty look.

"Don’t suppose so," Giles answered.

"Right, then I’m gone," Spike said, hurrying up the stairs and out the back door before Giles had pulled on his pants.

~~~~~

Buffy hadn’t seen them coming; hadn't even sensed them until they both had jumped her from either side.

Brandishing a baseball bat, the bigger vampire had hit Buffy squarely in the head with it as the smaller vampire had knocked her off her feet. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

"We got her! We got her!" the smaller vamp said gleefully. "We’ve bagged us the slayer!"

"Let’s get her in here," the larger vamp said, motioning over to Spike’s old crypt.

"Going to feed on her in there, then?" the smaller one asked, as he carried her over to the door of the crypt.

"All in good time, all in good time. Feed on her for a while, but don’t want to kill her. We’ll have plenty of bargaining power once everyone knows we’ve got the slayer. Might even be a nice bounty on her head," the larger vamp said, as he relished the thoughts.

~~~~~~~~

Spike was running at full vampire speed as he approached the cemetery. He’d easily tracked her by scent, but even if he hadn’t had that extra sense, he would have known where she was heading. She always did. His cemetery; his crypt.

He slowed his run to a walk as he approached the crypt. He could hear the faint whispers of the vampires. And sense her faint heartbeat. Faint?

Enraged, he threw open the doors to his old crypt, "BUFFY!" he yelled out.

The larger vampire, whose back had been to Spike, turned around slowly. In his arms, was the limp body of the slayer. The vampire looked over at Spike with yellow eyes and bloody fangs.

"Let her go!" Spike yelled.

"Hey, don’t have to shout. There’s plenty slayer still left for anyone who wants some," he said to Spike, smirking.

Spike tried to think quickly. He slowly smiled back at the larger vamp, "Hey mate, I’ve been tracking that bitch of a slayer for years. How’d you fellows bag her?"

"Just did. That was the funny part, she practically walked up to us," he said, as he adjusted Buffy’s body from one arm to the other, while the other vamp looked on hungrily at her neck. "She just wasn’t paying attention. Simple as that!"

"So you fellows decided to bring her here to my crypt?" Spike asked.

" _Your_ crypt? Hasn’t been anyone here in ages!" the smaller vamp argued.

"Well, you’re right and wrong, mate. Fact is, I did move out for a while, but I just moved back in the other day. That makes the slayer my property." Spike stopped to casually examine his nails before continuing. "It’ll also make the third slayer I killed."

"You? You’re the one? You’re Spike?" the smaller vamp said, with admiration.

"The one and only," Spike said, with a mock bow.

"So what? We heard you kill your own kind now," the larger vamp said.

"Yeah, I killed a few of our kind. So what? All in the plan."

"What plan is that?" the larger vamp asked.

"The plan to be able to get close enough to the slayer, have her trust me, then to kill her. Nearly bloody did until you blokes showed up here tonight and stole my thunder!"

"Well, we did at that. Too bad for you. Besides, got other uses for the slayer than just killing her. For now that is," the larger vamp said, leering down at Buffy’s form as he licked his lips.

"What might that be?" Spike said, as he tried to reign in his fear and rage. It sickened him to even think what they would do to her if they held her captive. He knew only too well.

"Money, fame, prestige, leverage," the larger vamp said.

"Money is it?" Spike said, relieved that was the first thing mentioned. "What if I could pay you thousands of dollars right now for the slayer? Would you be interested? You could still take all the glory, too. I just want the bitch dead, but by my hands; been waiting years for this and would like to have myself this one thing."

"What’s that?" the smaller vamp asked.

"One. Real. Good. Day."

The vamps looked at each other.

"Sure, Spike. You can have her. All you have to do is show us the money; she's all yours then. I'll give you until sunrise. How's that? Promise we won't even hurt her until then. Not much, anyway," the larger vamp said with a leer.

Spike's eyes flashed yellow, and his hands itched to do some damage, but he knew he wasn't up on his game these days. He needed the element of surprise.

"Don't need 'til sunrise. Got it here," he said through gritted teeth, as he walked over to the corner of the crypt near the window. Kneeling down, he discreetly adjusted something at his sides. Taking a knife from his pocket, he scraped at the mortar from between some bricks. Soon he had dislodged the two bottom bricks. From behind them, he brought out a long, slender, tarnished lock box.

He stood up and walked over to the old table that had once held his TV. He set the box down and opened it.

The vampires stood with their eyes agape as they saw the bundled money and jewels from across the room.

"Reckon there’s about $50,000 here. I’d say that’s a pretty fair deal for one skinny little, half dead slayer, wouldn’t you?" Spike asked.

The vamps nodded quickly.

"Put her down," Spike motioned to the top of the sarcophagus. "And don’t drop her either; don’t want her to die before I can kill her."

After doing so, the vamps walked over to where the money was as Spike circled over towards Buffy. Checking to see that she was still breathing, he walked back over towards them, as they were greedily counting the money.

Spike took two stakes from either side of his pants and dispatched the shocked vampires before they knew what hit them.

"Too easy." Spike said. "Should’ve been for you too, Buffy. What happened?"

He hurriedly shoved the money and jewels back in the lock box and stuck the whole thing into his inner jacket pocket. No time to re-mortar his favorite hiding place; he’d have to find another one or come back and fix this one sometime.

Buffy was just coming to as Spike picked her up in his arms.

"Huh? Sp…what hap..?" she mumbled, her head pounding.

"Don’t worry, pet. I’ve got you. Spike’s got you."

"How?" Buffy said, trying to come conscious, but giving herself up to being carried home in Spike’s strong arms.

How indeed? How’d a couple of amateurs like those back there get the best of his slayer?

"Just had a bad day," he answered her.

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. GOT ICE?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at home, Giles is jealous that Buffy wants Spike to take care of her.

****

**CHAPTER 2 - GOT ICE?**

"What happened?" Giles asked, as he opened the door as Spike carried Buffy inside.

"Got hurt. Couple of vamps jumped her down by my old crypt," Spike answered.

Giles started to ask how, but seeing the look on Spike's face, decided to wait. He followed Spike up the stairs and opened Buffy's bedroom door for him.

Spike laid Buffy gently on the bed, "Be right back, luv," he said, as Giles came over towards her.

"Buffy?" Giles said.

"Giles," Buffy answered weakly, "sorry, didn't mean to..." she grimaced in pain.

"It's alright, don't talk now," he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Spike came back into the room with a bowl of warm water, washcloths, towels, and the first aid kit.

"Spike," Buffy said, through half shut eyes.

"It's alright, pet, Spike's here," he said, as he started to gently wash the cuts on her face.

"Rupert, can you bring some ice? Slayer's got a nasty bump on the back of her head; needs to get into her jammies, too. That way I can see if she's hurt anywhere else," Spike said, without embarrassment.

"I should get Willow, then," Giles hurriedly said, repulsed at the idea of Spike being so familiar with Buffy as to undress her, even if they had been physical before, even if it was in the interest of dressing her wounds.

"No, let Red sleep, I'll take care of it; of Buffy," Spike said, as he applied a small bandage to her forehead.

Giles had been just watching the exchange between the two of them. They really did have a connection that seemed to defy any reasoning he could come up with; that he wanted to come up with. The idea of his Buffy and Spike...he just couldn't fathom it; didn't want to.

"I.C.E.?" Spike repeated, staring at him, pointedly.

"Oh, yes. Be right back," Giles said, leaving the room, fuming at being reduced to Spike’s errand boy.

Spike got up and locked the door quietly.

"Let's see now about getting you out of these things," Spike said, as he gently pulled her to him, so he could remove her top.

Underneath her, he saw a small patch of red. He looked on her back and saw a big ugly scrape that was oozing blood.

"Let's turn you over, luv. Dr. Spike's going to see that you're all taken care of," he said, as he gently rolled Buffy onto her stomach.

The scrape wasn't too deep and Spike was able to clean it and bandage her within a few minutes.

"Hmm, if I was Buffy's jammies, where would I be?" he asked himself. From years ago, he already knew what drawer her underwear was in, but not her pajamas.

After a bit of rummaging about he found a white flannel nightgown with little pink roses on them.

"Come on luv, let's get this on you," Spike said, as he gently pulled Buffy up towards him.

Buffy felt Spike lift her off the bed with his strong, sure hands. She wanted to help, but she felt like jelly on the inside and couldn't quite get a grip on what was happening, her head was dizzy and the room was spinning. The only thing she knew was that for now, she was safe, Spike had her and she was safe.

Spike finished pulling the nightgown over her head and laid her back on the bed. He then undid her pants, pulled them down to remove them and to inspect her legs and hips. They were unharmed, except for a small scrape on her left knee.

He sighed, then got up and unlocked the door just as Giles came back with the ice.

Giles brushed off Spike's out-stretched hand as he went over to Buffy with the icebag.

"Spike?" Buffy said, when he laid it on her head.

"No, Giles," he replied.

"Spike," Buffy said softly.

"She wants _you_ , apparently," Giles said, a bit of hurt in his voice.

Spike thought of relishing the moment, knowing how much Giles disliked him, but thought better of it. He knew he'd always had Buffy's best interest at the heart of the matter. He just shrugged with a small smile.

"I've got you, pet," Spike said, as he gently lifted her head, so as to put the icebag on the right spot.

Spike said something to her that Giles couldn't hear.

"Thank you, Giles," Buffy whispered from her bed.

"You're welcome," he said, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Now Spike has to tell Buffy to thank me? "This really is no good," he mumbled as he walked down the hall.

END OF CHAPTER 2

 


	3. LESSONS FROM THE PAST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike watches over Buffy as she recovers and wonders what he can do for her to ease her burden.

****

**CHAPTER 3 – LESSONS FROM THE PAST**

After Giles left, Spike gave Buffy some aspirin and convinced her go to sleep, with the promise that he'd stay with her. Not that she needed much convincing - she was hurt and exhausted; more than he'd ever seen her be.

Through the night, Spike kept watch as Buffy slept, soothing her with his voice when she started having nightmares until she settled back into slumber.

As morning approached, and with it his own tiredness, Spike’s mind tried to formulate a plan. There had to be something he could do for her to ease her burden. Wearily, he got up and put a blanket over the window in order to keep out the light. He remembered the lock box, still in his pocket, wishing money could make it all better, could buy happiness; at least for her. Maybe he could bribe The First to leave her alone.

 __

 _Yeah, right you wanker. If only it were that simple._

He kept coming back to the realization that he'd _actually_ saved her life last night. Was that a first for him? Might’ve been. Sure, he’d helped her - and her band of misfit, white hats - lots of times in the past; gotten the slayer out of many a tight spot. Though truth be told, nothing she probably couldn’t have eventually handled herself.

Tonight had been different and it made him shudder to think what could’ve happened.

Not to mention, most of the time, and particularly as of late, it had been her saving him, again and again. What terrified him to his very core about his saving her tonight was he knew it had nothing to do with his being clever or strong. It was that she'd had a moment of weakness and for her, that could be deadly.

He remembered when she’d come to him only a couple of years before, looking for answers about how he had killed the two slayers. Wanting to know what they had done wrong; wanting to know how she could learn from their mistakes.

He wished he hadn’t said what he had to her, imprinting on her brain forever, the truth of a slayer’s short existence.

　

 _"Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em? The question isn't ‘How'd I win?’ The question is ‘Why'd they lose’?"_

 _She was weary tonight, distracted._

 _"And part of you wants it... not only to stop the fear and uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it. Even you."_

 _Already had a taste of it. Twice._

 _"Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or later it's gonna catch you. Sooner or later, you're gonna want it. And the second- the second- that happens...You know I'll be there. I'll slip in... have myself a real good day."_

 _Won’t be me, pet. Never. Not anymore. Not for a long time. But wouldn’t take a vamp only half as good as I was to best you in your present condition, not to mention The First. Proved that tonight._

He wished he knew what it was she wanted from him, what she needed from him.

END OF CHAPTER 3

　

　


	4. BIG FYARL DEMONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy shows Spike warmth and gratitude at having saved her. Spike pads the truth about what it was that attacked her, while trying to figure out the signals she's sending.

****

**CHAPTER 4 - BIG FYARL DEMONS**

He sensed her before he felt her small hand lightly touch his fingers. He'd only meant to close his eyes for a few minutes while she slept, but had obviously drifted off. Spike couldn't help but let himself enjoy the sensation of her gentle touch for a few minutes before opening his eyes. Buffy took her hand away as he did, although not as quickly as he expected she would.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey yourself. How you feeling?" Spike asked, his eyes closely studied her for any telltale signs of residual injury.

"Confused. Head-achy...what happened?"

"Couple of nasties jumped you down by my old place. Knocked you out," Spike said easily, having rehearsed this bit of spin in his head last night. "I took care of 'em."

"I don't remember," Buffy said, her voice small and unsure.

"It's okay, luv."

"It's not! Why don't I remember, Spike?"

Hearing the panic start to overtake her he took her hand and squeezed.

"Probably due to that nasty bump on your head. Nothin' more."

Buffy took her hand from his and raised it to her head, "Ouch! Must be the spot."

He nodded.

"How'd I get home then?" She asked, knowing the probable answer.

"Came out to find you. Something didn't feel right after you left, so I went looking," Spike said, shrugging.

"What was it?"

"What was what, luv?"

"What were the things that got me?" Buffy clarified, seeing his confusion.

"Big demons, two big Fyarl demons. Couldn't have fought them off by yourself. I barely did myself; got lucky," Spike said, trying to reassure her.

Buffy looked at him closely, no worse for the wear it seemed. Big Fyarl demons, huh? Something didn't add up, but she didn't press him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"For what, luv?" Spike asked.

"Coming out, bringing me home, taking care of me. You know. Pretty much all of it," Buffy said, her eyes looking into his with warmth and gratitude.

"Buffy..." He didn't know why, but all of a sudden he had a lump in his throat, rendering him nearly speechless. "I, I'm just glad to return the favor, luv," he finally stammered out, whilst perversely wishing his head would explode in pain like it used to. At least that would be something concrete to concentrate on, instead of this feeling that he was missing some sort of signal she was sending.

"Spike, I..." Buffy started just as the door opened.

"Hey Buffy," Willow said.

"Feeling better this morning?" Giles asked.

"Hey Willow. Yes, better," Buffy answered both of them.

"Spike, why don't you go downstairs and refill Buffy's icebag? Then you'll probably want to rest, since the sun has been up for hours now. The potentials are on their way out for some training with Xander at the gym, so they won't be bothering you. He rented the place for the whole day, just for them." Giles said.

Spike got the distinct feeling that both Giles and Willow had orchestrated this 'takeover' of Buffy's care.

Buffy quickly glanced at Spike with something like alarm in her eyes, but quickly veiled it before they could see. She nodded slightly to him.

"Okay, then," Spike said as he gently lifted the water-logged icebag from the back of Buffy's head, caressing it for just a second, just so that she knew that he had.

When he came back with the ice, Willow met him at the door.

"Thanks, Spike, I'll give it to Buffy," she said.

Spike looked at her for a couple of seconds, then shrugged and started to hand her the icebag.

Just as she took it, he held her wrist lightly for a moment, motioning her out to the hall.

"Don't let Giles upset Buffy by telling her every little detail about training and all that. She isn't herself right now. Wasn't herself last night," Spike said.

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"Buffy almost got killed by two junior vamps. Couldn't be much more than fledglings, yet she didn't even see them coming. Not before one of them cracked her on the head," Spike said.

"That's terrible, but maybe they were really strong?" Willow asked, hopefully.

"No, just average. Which is why I think Buffy's in serious shape and needs a break from the stress. I even told her they were big Fyarl demons that attacked her. She doesn't remember and I didn't want to make her feel worse than she already does about getting bested last night," Spike said.

"You're right Spike, she's been wound up tighter than a, than a, well, something. What with all the Potentials, and The First, and when you were killing people, then captured, then your chip going all wonky, and...oh, sorry, Spike," Willow said, seeing the pain in his eyes.

"Yeah, I know, Wil, I'm a big part of her problem. Or at least I was. I intend to do everything I can to earn my keep around here. Helping Buffy, you guys, fighting evil," Spike said.

"You know, I'd leave in a minute if that's what she wanted. Even asked her; suggested it, that I should leave town, get away, before... you know, The First tries to make me _its_ bitch again. But she said no. She said I had to stay. Telling you this just in case Giles wants to know why I am sticking around. Because Buffy ordered me to," Spike said, stretching the truth a bit, but for a good purpose.

"So tell Rupert that he can stop with the dirty looks and all that rot," Spike said, walking away. "And you too, Red. You and the boy."

"Spike!" Willow called after him, "I don't give you dirty looks!"

"No, just disparaging ones," Spike called back, over his shoulder, as he slunk off to the basement.

END OF CHAPTER 4

　

　

　

　

　

　


	5. COMFORT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Clem's help, Spike plans how he'll help Buffy, but first he'll have to ask her to trust him. Meanwhile, with Giles and the Potentials out of the house, a still-wobbly Buffy asks Willow for help downstairs to see Spike.

****

**CHAPTER 5 - COMFORT**

On his way down to the basement, Spike looked around the kitchen for signs of Scoobies or Potentials. Not seeing anybody he put the object he'd been looking for into his pocket.

Once downstairs he repeated the process, making sure nobody was lurking about. He then took the pilfered object out of his pocket, glaring at it for a moment. "Bloody stupid things," he grumbled, as he rummaged around in his pocket and found the tattered slip of paper he was looking for. He flipped open the cell phone and dialed the number on the paper.

"Clem? Spike here...yeah, I'm alright, hey listen, there's something I want you to do for me..."

It would be at least six or seven hours before he could do what he was planning; that is, if she wanted to, if she trusted him.

" _Do you trust me?_ " he’d asked her last year, showing her handcuffs for their fun and games.

" _Never_ ," she’d replied. Hadn’t been just about that. Been about everything.

 _Trust_.

He sighed, restless. Nothing for him to do except rest until then, he thought as he closed his eyes.

　

Upstairs, Buffy was barely listening as Giles went on about the situation with the girls. On and on and on. She felt like she was drowning in it all. She was dizzy and she was starting to remember some things from last night. One thing she knew for certain: it hadn't been Fyarl demons that had attacked her, more likely just a couple of vampires. She remembered walking near Spike's old crypt, then nothing else until she was being carried home by Spike. She realized that she had been extremely careless and had nearly paid the ultimate price. Again.

She was off her game; that was for sure. Spike was off his game, too, but at least not so much last night. How were they going to fight The First like this?

She knew she should care, that she should be training, but all she wanted right now was to go to Spike, talk to him, sit next to him. Didn't want to think about The First, didn’t want to think of winning, losing, failing, didn’t want fancy restaurant dates with someone new. Just wanted to be. Wanted to sit beside him, just be.

".....think we should start that this weekend," Giles said.

"Buffy? Did you hear what I just said? I think we should train the girls to use swords this weekend," Giles said, again.

"Huh? Sure, whatever you think is best, Giles," Buffy said, just to shut him up.

"Buffy, I understand that you were hurt last night and that Spike found you. How do you know that he didn't set it up? So that he could come to your rescue, so you'd see him as a hero?" Giles asked.

"Giles!" Buffy said, exasperated. "You really don't know Spike at all anymore, or you would never even ask me that!"

"Buffy..."

"No, Giles. He's the one that saved me! I didn't even know I was going out until I decided to, just a spur of the moment decision. And _don't_ even suggest that once I was out, he found some vamp buddies to attack me, or that he did it himself. You are so wrong about this; about him, I can't even begin to explain it to you." Buffy said, wishing once again that she didn't have to keep defending him to Giles and everyone else for that matter.

Giles just looked at her and shook his head.

"I have to go and meet Xander at the gym. He's got to go to work and I'm going to take over training until about 6:00PM. I hate to leave you, but Willow is here," Giles said, glad to have some other topic of conversation.

"That's fine Giles," Buffy said, happy to hear he wouldn't be hanging around her all day. "Willow can take care of me, of everything," she said, with a smile.

"Good, fine. I'll be off then," Giles said, getting up to leave.

"Just one more thing, Buffy. Don't trust him too much. Spike," Giles said, as he closed the door behind him.

 _Trust_.

One little word, one world of meaning.

 _Spike_.

As soon as she heard Giles leave, she called to Willow.

"Hey, Buffy. What can I do for you?" Willow asked, coming into the bedroom.

"Willow, my head is still sort of wonky, but I need to...I mean, I want to go see Spike. Can you walk me down the stairs?"

Willow hesitated.

"Please?" Buffy asked, eyes pleading.

"Sure, Buffy. No problem," Willow said, starting to help Buffy up out of bed.

He was only half-asleep, dreaming about it. He hadn’t seen it in almost ten years. That is, until last summer...after he'd left Sunnydale, on his way to Africa, and then again before he returned.

He was now wide-awake as he sensed somebody coming down the stairs. Two people, one unsteady. He opened his eyes as Willow with her arm around Buffy, walked up to his cot.

"Buffy wanted me to bring her down to talk to you," Willow said, then smiled as she turned to leave. She handed him a fresh icebag.

"See, Spike? No disparaging looks."

"Appreciate that, Red," Spike said, "I’ll try not to snark at ya in return."

Laughing, she went upstairs and closed the door.

"Are you feeling better, Buffy?" he asked.

"Bit wobbly," she replied.

She looked down at him, watching her. Waiting for a word, from her. Always waiting for her word. Except, now, she didn’t have any. She looked at him lying there and she was at a loss; loss of words, loss of direction; loss of everything.

He looked at her just staring at him, as if she was working something out in her mind. He knew he should get up so she could sit down, but he was frozen; watching her face as she looked at him.

He wasn’t good at silences, "Buffy?"

"Spi…Spike," his name caught in her throat.

He understood now. She was lost and looking for a safe harbor; afraid to be lost, afraid to be found.

He opened up his arms to her and with a small shuddering inhale, she climbed into bed with him, burying her head in his neck, her arm over his chest, around his neck, holding onto him tightly, like he was a life raft. His arms enfolded her gently at first, as if she was a little broken bird; his little broken bird, then stronger as she clung onto him, looking for the security of his arms.

He rubbed her back, murmuring soothingly to her, until she finally relaxed, exhaled as if she’d been holding her breath forever, and relaxed her hold just a little. He felt her heartbeat slow as she finally drifted off to sleep, to a rest that she’d been denied for too long. Once again there was a lump in his throat as he held her in his arms for this first time since..?

Ever.

She’d never let herself be held by him. Never. Never held him. Not for comfort, nor out of any sort of feelings between them. Never. Only held onto him while fucking, to forget the pain, forget the loss. Maybe this was the same, holding for comfort, only minus the fucking.

But it felt different. More real. Wanted him to stay, needed him.

Maybe more.

He looked at the clock over the wash machine. Only another couple of hours. Then he’d ask her; when she awoke.

Ask her to trust him.

But for now, he would hold her in her sleep, as long as she needed, help her be at rest.

　

END OF CHAPTER 5


	6. PLANNING AHEAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike talks Buffy into going away with him for a few days, to a place he owns in the mountains.

****

**CHAPTER 6 - PLANNING AHEAD**

Buffy woke up slowly, between wakefulness and the edge of sleep. She felt like she'd had some sort of pleasant dream, although she couldn't quite remember it. At least it hadn't been the heart pounding nightmares, which jerked her, awake every couple of hours; ones that she'd had every night for almost five months.

Slowly she became aware that she was nestled between a pillow and...Spike's neck. Feeling her arms around his neck gave her both a sense of relief, but also embarrassment. Embarrassment that she always sought him out for comfort of one kind or another. He deserved more. Much more.

She kept seeking him out, time and time again. Why? She knew the answer, at least the part she was willing to admit. It seemed like the only person who had the slightest idea of what she was going through was Spike. How long had it been this way? She couldn’t even remember when it had become clear to her that he, and he alone understood her, knew her, cared for her, and of course, still loved her, all of her. Didn’t he?

She became aware that one of his arms was around her back, while the other was? She reached up and felt his hand holding the icebag on her head.

Slowly she lifted her head up from his shoulder, while moving her arm out from behind his neck. As she did so, her eyes met his.

"Have you been holding that icebag on my head the whole time?" she asked, glad to have the icebag as icebreaker.

"Yeah, you had quite a bump, thought it be best," he answered.

She reached under the icebag, "Seems a lot smaller now. Thank you," she said, smiling a little at him.

"Didn’t mind," Spike said, smiling back.

"You feeling better now, Buffy?"

"Seem to be. I'm not dizzy anymore or wonky, so that's an improvement."

"Buffy?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" Spike asked, looking serious all of a sudden.

"Well, considering that I'm lying here on your bed, after all we've been through, I think you can take that as a yes," she answered, trying to fathom what he wanted from her.

"Good. Then I want you to do something. For me. For you, too. Mostly for you," Spike added.

Buffy had no idea where this was leading, "What?"

"I want you to go away with me. Overnight," Spike said, then hurried on, "It's not far. It's a place, it's...it's a place I own, up in the mountains. About 2 hours from here."

"Own?" Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows in stunned disbelief.

"Yes. Own. For about 50 years. Nobody knows about it except for Clem."

"Clem?" Buffy asked dumbfounded, still not believing what she was hearing.

"Buffy!"

"How can I? The girls, The First..." Buffy stammered.

Spike sat up, pulling her with him.

"How are you going to fight right now, Buffy? You're exhausted, you're hurt. Last night you let two amateur vampires almost kill you. If I hadn't come out..." Spike said, shaking his head at the memory.

"I knew it wasn't Fyarl demons," Buffy said with a wry smile. "Still, it was just an off night; I, I...was thinking about something," she added lamely.

"You know I'm right," Spike insisted. "You may feel better, but you still aren't in any shape to fight any nasties right now, small or large."

"I know," she said quietly. "Still, Giles. Willow. Giles! Even if I wanted to go or thought that I should, Giles would have a holy cow!" Buffy said.

"Oh, I see," Spike said, turning away.

"Spike, don't be like that, I...I just can't."

"No, you mean you _won't_ ," Spike said, turning back towards her, "I don't care if Giles doesn't like me or even hates me. I care more that _you_ still think you can't do something for yourself, not if it will displease him. Even if he's wrong. Even if I'm right."

"It's not that, I..."

"It's not? Then what is it?"

"What about The First? What if I'm gone and he comes or sends the Harbingers? What if he knows I'm gone?" she asked, her voice quietly pleading with him to understand.

"We'll bring a cell phone," Spike said, then added, "bloody stupid things, but still, you'd be able to keep in touch."

"It's two hours away, though. What if they couldn't call in time?" Buffy asked.

"WILLOW!" Spike yelled.

"Spike!"

"What is it?" Willow asked, hurrying down the stairs.

"Want to ask you something. Say Buffy was to go away for a day, for overnight," Spike started out, "do you think that it would be safe for her to do so?"

"You going away, Buffy?" Willow asked, turning towards Buffy.

Buffy just shrugged her shoulders.

"Willow, Buffy's worried about what would happen if she was needed. I already mentioned the cell phone to her." Spike said, "Anything else you can think of that might ease her mind?"

"Where you going?" Willow asked Buffy.

Buffy shrugged again, looking at Spike.

"Can't tell you exactly, a few hours away."

"You're going, too?" Willow asked, eyes getting large.

"Well, yeah, that was the plan." Spike said, snarking a bit at her.

"Hey! No snark, Spike," Willow said, "I just asked, didn't mean..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Could see it in your expression. Big Bad taking Buffy away," Spike said with some bitterness.

"No, it's just...well, surprising is all. Actually, I think it's sort of romantic."

"For Christ's sakes! Not talking romance here, witch! Talking Buffy needing a break from all this! You want a strong slayer or a slayer that's falling apart? When's the last time Buffy's been out of Sunnydale?"

Buffy and Willow just looked at each other.

"Buffy went to L.A. for the summer before senior year, in 1998," Willow offered.

"That doesn't count. I was working," Buffy said, then added, "I haven't been out of Sunnydale overnight since then, really not since I came here."

"Fuck Slayer! That's a bloody long time to have your nose to the grindstone," Spike said, then looking at her, he added softly, "and it's killing you."

"Well, you kept me pretty busy when you first got here, Spike," Buffy retorted.

"Yeah, imagine I did...and even more recently, but that was then and this is now," Spike answered.

"Did you kiss your mother with that mouth, Spike?" Willow asked.

Spike glared at her. "Yeah, but my mouth was a lot more pristine 120 years ago."

"Back to the problem. Is there anything you could do to help Buffy feel she can leave Sunnyhell for an overnight?" Spike asked.

"Are you going somewhere that is wired?" Willow asked.

"Wired?"

"Yeah, you know, wired for electricity? Computers?" Willow answered.

"Well, sort of," he replied.

Buffy looked at him questioningly.

"No, not computers."

"No phone-line?" Willow asked.

"No."

"How about satellite dish?"

"No."

"Wait, I got it!" Willow said. "Remember the spycams that Warren had all over the place to watch you last year?"

Buffy and Spike just looked at each other, then at Willow nodding.

"Oh, sorry. But I was thinking that we could get those here and maybe you could take Andrew's laptop, and his batteries, then you could watch the house!"

"That's an idea! No wait, won't work, even if we have the batteries, still can't get on the internet," Spike said.

"Wait! It will work on Buffy's cell phone. She's got wireless access to the net. You can just plug the laptop into her cell phone," Willow said, excited.

Spike reached into his back pocket.

"This cell phone?" he asked innocently.

"Spike!" Willow and Buffy said together.

"What? Had to call Clem earlier. It wasn't like I wasn't going to give it back."

"Okay then, cell phone: check, remote viewing: check. What else Slayer?"

"I still couldn't get back here in time if something started," Buffy said.

"Well, I could give you a spell that would transport you back in a few seconds. Only I'm not positive you could work it, not being a witch and all, but it might... Besides Buffy, usually when The First does something, he usually lays low for a few days or a week. At least that's been his modus operandi, since we've been aware of him." Willow said.

"And Buffy, Spike is right; you need a break. You deserve a break; at least for a day or two. You haven't ever had one and you are exhausted," Willow said.

"Well?" Spike asked.

"Oh, and don't worry about Giles," Willow said, "I'll handle him."

Spike looked at Buffy, hopefully, expectantly.

He looks just like a little boy, sometimes, she thought. Giving him a little smile, "Okay. Let's go!" she said her smile increasing in size.

END OF CHAPTER 6


	7. OUTTA HERE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike drive up to Julian, and she finds out some of its history. Giles comes back and has a fit that Willow has 'let' Spike take Buffy away. Willow defends her friends.

****

**CHAPTER 7 – OUTTA HERE**

Willow started up the stairs, and Buffy got up off the cot to follow her.

Looking back at Spike, she asked, "What should I pack? Anything special?"

Spike looked at her with a raised eyebrow for half a second, then deciding against making a remark that might have her changing her mind just said, "Bring a coat and some warm socks."

"Okay, be right back," she said starting up the stairs, then stopped. "Hey, how are we getting there?"

"Car," Spike said, "My old DeSoto."

"Where's that at?" Buffy asked.

"Well, if Clem did as I asked him to, then it's about one block from here," Spike answered.

Buffy stared at him.

"How did you know I'd go?" she asked.

"I didn't pet, just wanted to be prepared in case you did, okay? Go pack now, so we can get out of here before anyone else comes home and we have to explain or I get staked."

"Okay, going to pack now," Buffy said, heading upstairs for real this time.

Once upstairs, Buffy went about putting some stuff into a small suitcase. Sweaters, check. Jeans, check. Toiletries and makeup, check. Shoes, check. Undies, check. Nightgown, hmm...shorty or longy? Flannel or skimpy? Buffy paused. Well, he did say it wasn't about romance she reminded herself, not without some sadness and regret. Moments from the past year flitted through her brain. She pushed them aside. Doesn't really matter then, does it? Okay, variety of nightgowns...just because I don't know what I'll want to wear...um...what the temperature will be, check.

Buffy met Spike in the kitchen with suitcase in hand. Spike only had a small duffel bag and was carrying his blanket.

"Well, we're off, I guess," she said to Willow. "I'll call you when we get there."

"Have a good time you guys!" Willow said walking them to the door.

It was 4:00pm so the sun was low in the sky, but Spike still needed to protect himself. He put the blanket over his head after taking Buffy's suitcase from her.

"We're off then," he said, pausing to look back at Willow. "Thanks for looking after things."

"No problem, Spike," she replied, as they walked down the sidewalk, "Oh, and by the way, I still think it's _ROMANTIC_." Laughing, she closed the back door before either of them could reply.

A block later they came to the only car on Revello drive with the windows almost completely blacked out. The DeSoto.

Buffy turned to Spike after they got in, "Where have you been keeping this? I didn't even think you still had it."

"Storing it with some friendly sorts. Friends of Clem," Spike answered.

Buffy shook her head. "You've always had this whole other secret life in this other world, that I can only begin to guess at, haven't you?"

"Well, pet, yeah, though not much of a secret, exactly. I mean, most _my type_ are in this _other world_ , as you put it. Most of _my type_ don't spend so much time with _your type_ , unless it's to eat them," Spike said, then rolled his eyes.

Unexpectedly, Buffy giggled. Spike smiled at hearing a sound he so seldom heard from her.

"Nevermind! Just drive!" she said, then in an almost desperate whisper added, "take me out of Sunnydale Please, Spike."

"The lady’s wish is my command!" he replied with a quick nod, as he put the car into first gear and they pulled out into the road.

They drove in amiable silence for about half an hour until Spike turned the DeSoto onto I 15, South.

"Where _exactly_ are we going," Buffy asked.

"Up near Cleveland National Forest, right on the outskirts of it, really. Up around 5,000 feet, highest point in San Diego County. Get off near Santa Ysabel, then, well, it's between there and a little berg called Julian," Spike answered.

"Oh," Buffy replied simply.

They drove along for another hour in comfortable silence until Spike turned onto Hwy. 79, South.

"Think I heard of Julian. Do they grow apples there?" Buffy asked. "Or is that somewhere else? Isn't Julian an old gold rush town?"

"Good on you, Slayer! Gratifying to know that the California educational system is working," Spike said, grinning at her.

"Spike..."

"Don't get your knickers all twisted. Yeah, apples galore. Best apple growing in all of California! The really cool nights this time of year help them grow. Even snows sometimes. As good as any Washington or Michigan apples. Spot on about the gold rush, too. Julian was one of the first gold rush towns in California, late 1860's or so. People think that the gold rush took place mostly in Northern California, but that happened later. Julian was just about first. After the prospectors came and left, Julian was mostly a ghost town. Then around 1930's or so, some investors saw an opportunity to make a little money on it's former image; started making it into a little get-a-way for Southern Californians wanting to soak in some history and get away from the everyday hubbub. So now it has lots of little B&B's with cute little names, like Prospector's Inn, Miner's Gold, etc. Also, has lots of cute little restaurants, antique shops, you know, your little tourist town. I don't say typical, because, really, it has kept a lot of it's charm and it usually isn't overrun with too many tourists, so it's...well, it's nice," Spike said, with a soft smile.

"Okay, Mr. Factoid," Buffy said laughing.

Spike always knew lots of trivia about lots of things. Guess when you're as old as Spike...she didn't know why, but all of a sudden that thought made her sad. The thought of Spike eternally looking so young, so fit, so...so beautiful! She gave him a sidelong glance. Yep, no mistake, he definitely was beautiful. Beautiful, dangerous, _old,_ loyal; all those things rolled into one soulful vampire that was taking her away on the only _vacation_ she could remember having since she'd been a little girl.. She wondered, in all those years of his existence - longer than hers as William and well over one hundred as Spike - had he ever been truly happy? Loved? Sadly, she felt she knew the answer all too well.

Clearing the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat, she asked, "When will we be there?"

"About an hour, luv."

"Okay," Buffy said, clearing her ears, as she felt the pressure from the increasing elevation. She lay her head back and closed her eyes.

Spike looked sideways at Buffy. She was so young. Yet the things she'd had to do, had to learn about in so short of time, had made her much older than her counterparts. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden that thought filled him with sorrow. The thought of Buffy always having to be on guard, be at the ready...and now to be at war. He looked at her again. She was so beautiful, but looked so tired. Except when she'd been a little girl, he wondered, had she ever been happy? Since her mother died, had she ever felt loved? Sadly, he felt he knew the answer all too well and it brought a lump to his throat. Truth being, that even though he'd loved her with everything he had, slayer hadn't allowed herself to feel it. Not from him as he'd been then - soulless, nor from what he wasn't, neither then or now: a man.

Angrily, he pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on the road, vowing that he would give her the best, relaxing time he could, with none of his bullshit. This weekend, or overnight, was for her and her alone.

　

"She what?" Giles yelled at Willow. "You let her go with...with _SPIKE_? Are you quite mad?"

"Listen, Giles, Buffy is going to be fine. I already told you that she'll be checking in regularly, and I'm sure she'll be safe with Spike," Willow answered.

"Safe with Spike? You have gone mad! You and Buffy, both! You've both forgotten what he is; what he's done," Giles said, still yelling.

"No, we haven't. In fact, if I remember correctly, seems that I had an episode of being evil myself, although, thank the goddesses, a much shorter one. Still, I don't remember Spike ever wanting to destroy the world. As a matter of fact, he saved it when he went against Angel with Buffy a few years back," she said, her patience rapidly running out.

"I don't trust Spike! I never will. He always just wants what he wants. And before you remind me, yes, I know he's gone and gotten a soul, so now he's what? A wonderful person? He just did it to make Buffy forgive him, to try to win her over, and from what I've seen, it seems to be working!" Giles said, his face red with anger.

Willow looked at him. And maybe for the first time, she saw a frustrated, older man; who after dedicating himself to the cause, was at the end of his rope and not seeing anything, or anyone, clearly anymore.

"So what if Spike did do it for Buffy? I think he did it for himself, as well, but even if he did do it for Buffy, what does that say about him? He's a vampire, Giles! What other vampire has ever, ever done this? Angel didn't! His soul was a curse, and when he lost it again, he sure didn't want it back. When Angel is soulless and evil, he's all too happy to be that way. Know what else?" Willow continued, now on a roll. "If Angel had a chip shoved up his brain, I think he would've found someone else to kill Buffy. Spike could have done that, but he didn't! So what if he's crazy in love and would do anything for her? Even enough to back off and not pursue her? Which, by the way, is what he has been doing, in my opinion. Again, I say so what? I...I think it's..." Willow didn't finish.

"Think it's what? Okay? Romantic? You girls and your foolish notions!" Giles said.

"You didn't think it was so foolish when it was Jenny, did you Giles?" Willow asked, knowing she was hitting a sore spot.

"Don't you ever compare Jenny to that...that thing!" Giles spat out.

"I don't think Spike is a thing, and Jenny wasn't so lily pure, herself!" Willow said.

"I'm warning you, Willow, you will not speak of Jenny that way!" Giles yelled.

"You're warning me? _Warning me?_ When did you become my father? Or Buffy's for that matter? I think that’s the problem; you still look at me and Buffy as your children. Well, look around you, Giles! We're _not_ children anymore. Buffy surely isn't. It's not that we don't need you anymore, but just not in the way we once did. Not even Buffy. You keep talking to her, and about her like she's a child! She's not! She's a young woman, and she has the right to make her own choices, even if it means going away for an overnight with Spike. It's her choice, Giles. Don't you see? Unless she really felt that it wasn’t absolutely in the best interest of everyone, she wouldn't have gone."

"Then why didn’t' she wait until I got back to leave?" Giles asked.

"Duh! She knew you'd give her a hard time or try to talk her out of it. She didn’t' want to fight. She's tired Giles; she's also so exhausted she nearly got herself killed last night by a couple of junior vamps. She went away because she hasn't been away for a day of _not_ fighting, for over five years! Not one, stinking day, Giles. Can you understand that? Can you?" Willow asked.

Giles just shook his head, "No Willow, I'm afraid I cannot; not when The First may attack anytime. I'm sorry, I think she's wrong and so are you," he said, turning to walk away.

"Well, I guess you're just going to have to live with those feelings then," Willow replied to his receding back.

"Let's just hope we _do_ live."

END OF CHAPTER 7

Feedback always most welcome! :)

　

　

　

　

　

　

　


	8. VALENTINE'S DAY DINNER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike arrive in Julian, and with it, one of the first surprises, as they stop in at The Rittenhous Restaurant for dinner. There, the older, proprietress, Edna, greets Spike as an old friend. What she intimates about her long association with Spike has Buffy's head spinning. Who exactly is this man she thought she knew?
> 
> This chapter (re-edited for here) also tells why he introduces her as Elizabeth. Although I'd thought I'd done a good job intimating why he had, I was never quite satisfied with it, and since she (in part 2 of the series) decides to go by the name as well - at least to some people, I'm glad to have clarified this once and for all. :)

****

**CHAPTER 8 – VALENTINE’S DAY DINNER**

As the late afternoon sun went low on the horizon, Spike felt Buffy stir against his shoulder. For nearly the past hour she'd been asleep. Buffy opened her eyes and sat up, not quite remembering how she'd fallen asleep against his side, but not embarrassed either. For once in longer than she could remember, she felt refreshed and...free.

Sensing her good mood, he reached across her to pull the dark sun-blocking plastic off of her window to reveal a forest on either side of the highway.

"Wow! When did all this happen?"

"About twenty minutes ago or so," Spike answered, as he continued pulling plastic off of the front and driver’s windows.

"I wish you'd woke me. It's beautiful," Buffy said, wistfully.

"Needed your sleep, luv. Still plenty of time to see the pretty trees; plenty of them where we're going, too," Spike said, looking at the highway sign that let him know they were almost to the exit.

"We'll be getting off at Santa Ysabel in about five minutes. Be there in a little while hence."

She bit down on her lip at his use of the old-fashioned word, but refrained from making a joke of it, or laughing aloud. Despite trying to keep what they had last year strictly sexcapades, she couldn't help having learned some of his well-kept secrets. For one thing, she knew about his secret love of poetry, and that once in a while when they were alone, he'd wind up sounding more like a Victorian gentleman, than the punk, badass vampire persona he showed to the rest of the world. Last year she didn't want to know those things about him; the things that made him so much more real to her. Now, they just made her feel all warm inside, which sort of confused her. _Old_ Buffy would have readily pushed those feelings aside faster than she could stake a vampire. However, this _new_ Buffy sort of wanted to mull over the feeling, relish it, even...whatever that meant.

"Okay," Buffy answered, then reached across the seat, putting her hand on top of his. "Thank you for this."

Spike swallowed hard and looked over at her and fell into her eyes. He hurriedly cleared his throat. "No need, pet, jus' knew you needed a break. Weren’t your own super-slayer self and all that..."

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said, softly, squeezing his hand a little. He squeezed it back, and was nearly overcome when she left it there in his.

They came to the exit for Santa Ysabel and turned left, heading towards Julian.

"Where do you...I mean, where is your...house, place?" Buffy asked, realizing how strange, how unbelievable it sounded coming off of her tongue.

"A couple miles before _downtown_ Julian. You hungry, Slayer?"

"I am, I really am. I don't think I've eaten since..." she trailed off, embarrassed.

"Yeah," Spike said tersely, his jaw clenched, as he thought of the damned principal feeding _his slayer_ pears in brandy sauce. Worse than that, was the obvious pleasure she seemed to be deriving from it...until he ruined it for her. Not that he was sorry.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said, and once again, squeezed his hand.

This time he shook off her hand, angry with himself more than her. He vowed anew to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't about him, after all. "No need, pet. No big deal."

Buffy gracefully accepted the small rejection, but Spike didn't fool her. After all, he'd hurried upstairs as soon as he'd heard she had a date. To what? To _accidentally_ run into her and tell her it was okay with him, and that he didn't still dream of a _crypt for two with a white picket fence_ for them anymore? A small smile mouth tugged at the corners of her mouth, at the vision of him trying to be all noble, to which of course, he'd denied. Stupid date. Stupid Buffy.

"Hey, how about that food?" Buffy asked, changing the subject. Well, sort of.

"We’ll go into Julian, there's a little restaurant right when we get to town, nice digs; food and antiques combined; very unique."

"Antique food?"

"No, Slayer. New food, with...oh, you'll see, pet," Spike said. He wondered how many times the girl had actually been out to nice restaurants. Not as many as she should have, at her age, he guessed. Only place she wound up at was the Bronze. Though, they did have Bloomin' Onions, he mused.

About ten minutes later Spike pulled the car up to a two story white house on a corner. The old-fashioned looking sign read The Rittenhouse, Restaurant & Antiques, Est. 1932.

"Lot of cars," Buffy remarked.

"Popular place," Spike said, turning off the window and going around to open the door for Buffy.

"How do I look? A real mess, huh?"

"You look fine, luv. Gorgeous," Spike said, giving her his hand as he helped her out of the car.

She blushed at the compliment. "Only you would think so, Spike," she said, shaking her head at him, blinded by her Buffy-ness, as usual.

"Well, yeah. You always do to me, pet," Spike said, as he offered her his arm and she accepted it, as they started up the walkway.

Spike opened the door for her and they walked in. The maitre’d’s podium was directly in front of them. Beyond it they could see into the dining area, which appeared to be completely filled with very nicely dressed diners; seemingly, all couples. Against the walls near the door were padded benches, also filled with people.

A few moments later, a nice looking man wearing a stylish black suit and white shirt, walked in from the dining area and up to the maitre d’ station and asked Spike, "May I have your name and time of your reservation?"

"Uh, reservation?" Spike stammered.

"Of course, sir," said the maitre d’ looking at Spike rather askance. "It’s Valentine’s Day! We’re only seating those with reservations."

"Bloody Hell!" Spike said rather loudly, causing those sitting on the benches to look rather askance at him and Buffy.

"It’s okay, Spike, we can go somewhere else," Buffy said, pulling at his arm.

"I’m afraid you’ll have the same problem at all the other restaurants in the area, sir. They’ve all been booked up for weeks," said the maitre d’.

All of a sudden, an older woman came from a door on the opposite side of the dining room. Buffy mouth fell open as the woman hurried up to Spike, and gave him a warm hug. "Master Worthington! Is it really you? Ack, of course it is! It's so good to see you," she said, with an Irish brogue.

Spike took a moment to gather his wits about him before he said, "Edna, how lovely to see you again, as well," he said hugging her back.

"And I told you to call me William," he said, smiling at the older woman, who was now positively beaming at Spike.

Buffy stared at her as she giggled. _Giggled!_

"Okay, _William_ it is. And who is your lovely friend?"

"This is..." he started, then looking over at Buffy, and made a quick decision. "Elizabeth."

Buffy looked at him curiously, but smiled at Edna and extended her hand, "Nice to meet you, how do you know Spi...William?" she asked.

"Oh, William here has helped me lots over the years. He’s a godsend! Took right over from where his father and grandfather left off. His grandfather helped me save this old place, paid for a new roof, even paid off the deed to my house when it was going into bankruptcy," said Edna, still beaming, and apparently, not paying any attention to the look of shock Buffy’s face was sure it showed.

"I’m sorry. Goodness, where are my manners? Did you come for dinner? Of course you did! Hold on," she said, going over to the maitre d’ and looking over the guest book.

"Oh dear, oh dear," she said, returning to Buffy and Spike. "If it was any other night of the year, I would have the maitre d’ give you the best table there is! But as it is, I have absolutely no tables available until after 11:00PM and that’s way too late to eat for a young couple, such as yourselves. What I can do, if you don’t mind, is to feed you right in the kitchen area. There’s a little room off of the pantry, and I’ll have that set that up for you, that is, if that's alright with you?" Edna asked, hopefully.

Spike looked at Buffy, questioningly. Buffy nodded.

"That would be fine, Edna, more than generous of you. Not your fault you don’t have any empty tables, luv. We just drove up from Sun...Sun Valley. Spur of the moment trip and all that," Spike explained, as they started to follow Edna, much to the glares of the other diners-in-waiting.

"Ack, no need for you to ever apologize, Mast... _William_ ," Edna said, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Once in the kitchen, Edna bade them to wait, while she set up a table in the little room off of the pantry.

Buffy looked around at the candy-apple green walls, with all the old kitchen pots and pans hung up decoratively. The cooking utensils, pots, and pans they used now seemed much more modern, but she could see that probably some of those hanging had been used at one time. After her inspection, when she was sure none of the staff was close by, she turned to Spike, who was obviously familiar with the layout by the looks of it.

"What's with the _we drove up from Sun Valley_ and calling me _Elizabeth?_ Not that it's not a nice name,butconsidering all the time and energy you've spent over the years in getting to know your enemy and all that, you must know that it’s not my _real name,_ don’t you? Not ashamed to be seen with me, are you?" she teased.

He turned to her, hurt showing in his eyes. " _Ashamed_ to be seen with you? Are you daft, you silly bint? You're either truly off your nut, or you don't know a thing about me! I could _never_ be ashamed of you! Proud to be seen with you!"

"I know," Buffy said softly. And she did. After all, feeling ashamed about her feelings for him and what they were doing last year had been her thing, never his, even when she was using him. "I just didn’t know why…"

He took hold of both her arms. " 'Course I know that's not your _real name_ , luv. Your name is unique, jus' like you are. Didn’t want to take any chances on someone puttin’ together that unique name of yours and where you come from, and figurin’ things out ‘bout what you do; who you are. Thought you'd be safer this way."

"Spike," Buffy said softly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. Just as she was about to apologize profusely and quite possibly break down in sobs, Edna came back into the kitchen and motioned for them to follow her, thus saving her from making a spectacle of herself. They left the kitchen and followed her down the hall to the little room she had set up. There was a small table with two old-fashioned high back wooden chairs with red velvet cushions. The table was set with a white linen tablecloth and napkins, crystal long stem glasses for wine, shorter ones for water, real silver utensils, and two candleholders made of crystal with two lit, red candles.

Edna laid the menus on the table. "I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order, young William. Is there anything I can bring you to drink, first?"

Spike looked at Buffy, "Bu, Elizabeth, would you like some wine or champagne?"

"Okay," she answered, almost too overwhelmed by everything to speak.

"Champagne, then," Spike ordered for them.

"Very good, Master Worthington, I mean William," said Edna with a giggle.

She left then and Buffy turned to Spike, "How? What? How do you know Edna?"

"Wait, I’ll tell you over dinner," he said, handing Buffy a menu.

Buffy took it from him, just shaking her head. The man was full of surprises; that was for sure!

Edna came back with the champagne and poured a little bit in a glass for ‘William’s’ approval.

Spike swirled and sniffed, and gave Edna a smile and nod. She returned the smile and poured the glasses for him and Buffy.

"Elizabeth, do your people come from across the pond, too?" Edna asked her.

"Huh?" Buffy said, trying to think what she meant, then realizing she meant England, Ireland, the U.K., "Oh, maybe some of them, on my mom’s side, I think," she answered.

"Thought so, with a name like Elizabeth," she said, smiling at Buffy.

Then turning to Spike, she said, "Young William, you so remind me of your father! Your grandfather, too, that is, what I can remember of him."

"So I’ve been told, Edna, so I’ve been told," he replied, looking up over his champagne glass at Buffy, whose mouth was open.

"Our young William here has taken over where his father left off; helping me when I’ve needed it, looking after things. Why his grandfather even paid for my Lawrence to go to school out East."

"You don’t say?" Buffy asked, looking pointedly at Spike.

"Why yes, he…oh, look at me going on, when two people are starvin’ for dinner. Now, what can I get you? And don’t be cheap, it’s on me!"

"No, I can’t let you do that, Edna, I’ll pay," Spike said.

"You can and you will young William, or I’ll be terribly insulted," she insisted.

Spike sighed, "Okay, Edna, you win. Elizabeth, what would you like?"

Buffy had been so taken up in moment; she’d not even looked at the menu. She hurriedly took a look.

"I’ll have the Shrimp and Scallop Fettuccini."

"Very good, and you, Master Worthington?"

"I’ll take the Prime Rib, rare; very rare," Spike ordered.

"Ah, just like your father; always liked his meat rare, too," Edna said, getting the rest of their side orders.

"If there’s nothing else, then I’ll leave you two alone," she said, with a wink and walked out the door, stopping to use the light dimmer.

Buffy looked at Spike, her mouth agape. She closed it, then opened it again.

"Master Worthington? Young William? You, your father and grandfather helping Edna for generations? Who are you, _William Worthington_ , and what have you done with _Spike_?"

 

Embarrassed, he lowered his head. "Still me, luv."

When she didn’t respond, he looked up to see her steady gaze on him.

He cleared his throat.

"Think it for best if you drink some of your champagne first, before I explain."

END OF CHAPTER 8

 


	9. GOLD RUSH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike tells Buffy how he came to own the land, once rich in gold in Julian and how he got the money out of it.

CHAPTER 9 - GOLD RUSH

Buffy took a long drink of her champagne, "Okay, spill."

"What do you want to know first luv?"

"How long have you known Edna? And what's this about _your father and grandfather_?"

He looked at her for a moment wondering how much he should tell her, trust her with.

"Well, as you could probably guess, there is no _father or grandfather_ , just me."

Buffy nodded. "I figured that much. Maybe you should start by telling me how you came to own the place we're going to."

They were interrupted as Edna entered with the soups, salads, and rolls.

"Is everything okay? Do you need anything else right now?"

Spike looked at Buffy. "Need anything else _Elizabeth_? Something else to drink?"

She shook her head.

"We're fine for now, Edna, Thanks," Spike said, smiling at her.

"Then I'll be back with your dinner in about fifteen minutes."

Spike waited until Edna had walked out of the small room, before turning back to Buffy.

"How did I come to own my place? Well, as you know, I got 'turned' in 1880. Prior to that, my brother..."

"Brother? You had a _brother_?"

"Yes, I had a brother; half-brother, actually, name of Henry. Thought you wanted me to explain, luv."

"Sorry, go ahead," Buffy said.

"Anyway, as I was saying, my brother had been hearing about the 'Great Gold Rush' taking place in California; here in Julian, in fact, since the mid 1870's. He’d been talkin’ about it for about that long, too. He was always a shrewd businessman, a real prick; cruel even, but shrewd when it came to business investments."

Spike stopped to butter a roll and handed it to Buffy, who took it from him.

"Enjoying the soup?" he asked.

"Umm, yes. Continue, please."

"Okay," he said, swallowing a spoonful himself. "Clam chowder's not really my thing, unless it has some blood in it, but it is pretty damned tasty."

"Spike!" Buffy warned.

"Okay, Slayer, okay. So, my brother decides that someday he would come here and mine for gold. However, he had other obligations to take care of at the time, so he just purchased about 1000 acres through his solicitor in 1875. One-thousand prime acres right in the middle of the richest gold mines ever found in California at that time, and bought for practically ha’pences per acre; um, pennies. He used to brag to anyone who would listen to him, how he was going to come here and strike it rich; braggin' as if though he already had the gold in his hands," Spike said, not without some rancor.

"So what happened? Did he come here? Find gold?" Buffy asked.

"What happened? You want to know _what happened_?" Spike looked at her, his eyes taking on a hard glint; "Can't you guess?"

Buffy was taken aback by the drastic change in his mood. From sweet and gentle to suddenly sounding so bitter and tormented.

"I don't know what happened, Spike. I wasn't there. Why don't you just tell me," she said, then added, "it doesn't matter to me, not really, not anymore. It was a long time ago, you were...different."

Spike sort of snorted, "Yeah, I was _different_. Newly vamped, running on pure demon energy, demon rage; rage against all those who had made my life a hell when I was human. Number one target, as you may have guessed, was my brother," Spike said, getting visibly upset. He stopped to get a grip on his emotions, as he sensed Buffy becoming upset as well. He wanted this weekend to be for her, not about him.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Spike said, looking at her.

"It's alright, go on."

"Sure, luv? Not a pretty bedtime story. You sure you wanna hear…"

"Yes."

"Right, then. So, without going into details, I killed my brother; made him suffer like he did me when I was human. Raided his valuables, and didn't give it much thought after that.

Then quite a few years later, I got to thinking about that property up here, all that stuff he'd been saying about it, 'bout the gold and the land. So, I find this deed in amongst the other stuff I’d taken and pretty much forgotten about, 'cept for the stuff I used right away."

Buffy looked at Spike. "And then what?"

"Then I waited a good long time before making a claim, as the long lost heir against the land deed. Didn't want to draw any suspicion, or have to make too many explanations to the magistrates," Spike said.

"So around the turn of the century; 1900 or so, I find a vampire who’d once been a solicitor in life. Know what they call solicitors or lawyers, pet?"

"What?" asked Buffy, stuffing a piece of tomato in her mouth.

"Bloodsuckers!" Spike said, laughing.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Very funny, now, go on with the story," she said, fascinated with this past of his she knew nothing about.

"Okay, so I talk to vamp who'd been a solicitor, and he tells me what I need to know to get the deed put into my name, William Worthington, _‘long lost, first cousin’_ of Henry Worthington."

"I thought Henry was your half-brother. Did your father adopt him? Is that why he had the same last name?"

"No, luv. Good catch, though. My father was Henry’s father’s second cousin, hence, we carried the same surname."

"Ah…"

"After that was all said and done, decided I would come here one day and see it for myself. Well, when Dru, Angel, Darla, and I first got to this country we stayed out east for a number of years. I wasn’t yet ready to break off on my own and come west. Besides, back then the trip was arduous. It certainly wasn't something I was prepared to do, not even as a vampire; _especially_ not as a vampire."

"Why?"

"Fairly primitive transportation modes and the sunlight sensitivity, luv. Had to do some careful plannin' to travel long distances back in those days."

"Ah...got it," Buffy said.

"Around 1920, just as Hollywood started crankin' out the silent movies and there was all this glitter and glamour thing going on, the gang decides that would be the place to make a go of it; easy pickings and all that. Course, I had a lot to do with their mindset; kept showing them articles in newspapers and magazines and all that. Really, I was just trying to position myself to get out west and be able to come up here and have a look 'round."

"Did they know about your property?" Buffy asked.

Spike shook his head vigorously. "No! Never told another living or undead soul I was close with about this place, except you. And Clem."

" _Clem?_ Your kitten-poker, hot chicken-wing loving, car-getting buddy, _Clem_?" Buffy said, her eyebrows arching.

Spike shook his head and sighed as he looked towards the heavens.

"Yes, _Clem,_ alright, Slayer? That li’l story will have to wait a bit; let me just get to this part of the tale first, yeah?"

Before she could answer, a waiter carrying a large serving tray, entered with their food, followed by Edna. A scrumptious plate of Shrimp and Scallop Fettuccini was set down in front of Buffy, and a very large, very rare, Prime Rib was put down in front of Spike. Buffy tried not to gawk. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually _ever_ seen a steak the size of the one that was in front of him…or nearly rare. For his part, Spike seemed to humbly accept the fuss obviously being made over him.

"You two enjoy your meal. Anything else I can get you, Master William? Elizabeth?" Edna asked.

"No thank you, this is great," Buffy said.

"Just perfect," Spike added, smiling warmly at Edna.

Buffy watched the interaction between the two of them. If someone had told her last year that Spike had more than a half-century relationship with a _human_ woman, she would've laughed right in their face. Although it was _still_ hard to believe, now she was eager to hear the rest of the story.

Edna nodded at the young waiter, who then departed.

"I’ll be back in a little while to see if there’s anything else you need," Edna said, smiling warmly at them, especially Spike, whom she gave a wink as she left.

"Ooh, this looks really good, much better than that weird French last night."

"Even better than pears dipped in brandy and sauce?" Spike asked lightly, not looking at her.

About to cut his steak, Buffy put her hand on top of his. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Yes, much better. In fact, if we were at McDonalds, it would still be much better, because you’re…I mean, we’re…" Buffy stopped, words suddenly escaping her over-stimulated brain on the way to her mostly-clever, if not profound, tongue.

Apparently, her intent didn’t miss its mark, as Spike seemed to grow a couple of inches as he sat up straighter, gazing at her with a mixture of adoration and awe. The fork he'd been holding in his other hand clattered onto the plate, as he placed that one on top of hers, sandwiching it between both of his.

Finally, Buffy gently removed her hand from his. "Now, tell me how you know Edna."

Spike shook his head to clear it from its current state, and started cutting his steak again, as he resumed the tale.

"Once the gang and I settled near Hollywood, I decided to come up here by myself; have a look around. It wasn’t too hard to find someone who would take me out to the area. Even at night I could tell it was a pristine place, a beautiful place. However, I needed to have a way to get some money out of my brother’s investment, so through a solicitor here, I sold some acres, had some mined, and kept about 100 acres for myself," Spike said.

"Gold and land was the best investment I could’ve ever made; had my dead brother to thank for his foresight on that one. When everyone else got burned in the Great Crash of ‘29, my money was all in gold and land; didn’t lose a thing, made more, in fact."

"Funny thing was, by the time I ever laid eyes on this place, the gold rush was long over. About 4 - 5 million or so worth of gold ore had already been taken out of this area by 1879, but I still held title to one thousand acres of prime land, which the only gold vein ran through, and which had yet to be mined. That land; _my land_ , wound up yielding almost as much gold ore as the original claims had fifty years before."

"So, what happened, Spike?"

"By starting another gold rush into this area, though a much smaller one. I limited it to a small amount of investors. I sold land in about ten to one hundred acre parcels, so there weren’t nearly as many people surging into the area, as had come in the first rush. Made ‘em hire mostly local crews, too, so they’re wouldn’t be hoards of wankers from outside, trampling all over the land and town and what not."

"Why? Why did you care about that, as long as you were going to reap the benefits of their work?"

"Dunno, luv. Just did. Something about this area just made me feel…I don’t know what exactly, but something I hadn’t felt for anything in long while."

"And I only sold to investors who promised they wouldn’t totally strip the land bare and would replant trees and fill in the new mines, once they were through. It was right in the contract and if they didn’t, I’d just come back and kill ‘em if I saw they were abusing their privilege."

"Privilege? You mean the privilege of buying the land from you?" Buffy teased.

Spike made a face. "Don’t be daft. I mean, the privilege of being a steward of this land, of course; knew even then that this was a piece of paradise worth preserving."

Buffy laughed, as she twirled a piece of Fettuccini on her fork. "So let me get this straight. You, _William the Bloody_ were the original environmentalist, huh?"

"Well, not _original_ , no, but was ahead of my time," Spike said, indignantly.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Did a lot of readin’ about American Indians and their philosophy of the land and all that. Oh, bloody hell, slayer! I sound like a freakin’ poof, don’t I? Worse still, a member of Greenpeace!" Spike said, rolling his eyes heavenward.

"Not at all, it’s nice, Spike. I mean, strange, but really nice that you could think that way, even though…"Buffy said.

"Even though I’m a vampire and spent lots more time destroying than saving, you mean?"

"I guess. I just would never have guessed you for…I guess I never gave much thought to how you think about these issues."

"No worries, luv. Didn’t expect you would be," Spike said a little too lightly.

"Spike, it’s not you."

"That’s a pretty tired line, even for you, Slayer."

Buffy took a deep breath. Why did he _always_ have to be so damn…she was going to go with her old default standby of, _irritating;_ instead, _sensitive_ popped into her brain in its place. Suddenly, she was reminded of _Harmony_ of all people of the _undead_ variety.

Little did Spike know, but last year while she waited for him in his crypt one night, she’d come across a notebook that Harmony had left behind. _Not_ that she was snooping, of course. She was _investigating_. In the notebook, the ditz had gone on and on about how sensitive her _Blondie Bear_ was; that and other truly disturbing things that Buffy wished she could’ve used a mind’s eyewash to scrub her brain out with.

It figures, the most vacuous bimbo in either human or vampire history had to go and ruin a perfectly good word - not that the twit had any idea of what it meant, _especially,_ when it came to Spike.

 

"It _isn’t_. Don’t you see? I don’t even have time to think about how _I think_ about things like that. I wish I did. I wish I had time for deep, long, philosophical debates on environmental issues, history, or even politics. I don’t even know what the real differences in the political parties. I mean, I sort of do, but not really. Aren’t people my age supposed to know this stuff, Spike? I think they are, but I don’t have the time to figure it out. I’d love to have the time to learn about history, religion, to debate if there’s a God or not, how the universe started, the meaning of life, death, all of it…I just don’t. No time for Buffy to have a…to think what ifs…to…any of it." She put down her fork, her eyes tearing up.

Spike clenched his jaw. _Bugger!_ Justcouldn’t just give the girl a nice evening without upsetting her.

"No, luv, no! Please, don’t get upset. I wanted this to be a nice weekend for you, a time for you to rest, not think about all of…everything else," Spike said, wiping a tear off of her face.

"Probably wouldn’t understand all that stuff anyway. Never was that good of a student," Buffy said with a little sniffle.

Spike forcefully took Buffy’s chin and lifted it to meet his eyes.

"You listen to me, Slayer! Don’t you ever, _ever_ let me hear you talk about yourself that way! You’re the smartest, bravest person I know. It’s not your fault that you haven’t had time to continue your studies or to learn ‘bout different philosophies, which by the way, are mostly bollocks written by a bunch of pompous windbags. How many those armchair philosophers will ever know the name of the person who saved the world – more than once - for the lot of them? Saved it so they could have their little useless debates about stuff, that in the long run, doesn’t mean a thing; not if the bloody world ends! You save the world! You save lives! That’s your _contribution,_ Buffy, and don’t you ever forget it. It’s priceless. _You_ are priceless!"

"You always have believed in me, haven’t you?" Buffy asked, although the question was redundant. His eyes alone spoke of his deep feelings for her that he’d always had; would always have.

"Always. Until the end of the world and beyond!"

The unwavering truth of it took her breath away. _Spike._ Her knight in slightly tarnished, bruised, and broken armor, but to her, he shone like the sun all the same.

"Thank you. If I haven’t told you lately; I believe in you, too, Spike."

 __

 _To the end of the world and beyond…_

Spike looked at her with that look of wonder he so rarely showed, that look reserved just for her. It was the look he gave her when she’d come to rescue him from The First - a look of hope, belief, wonder, and undying, unfaltering love. For her.

Slowly, he took his hand off of her face. "You should eat, Buffy, luv, your food’s getting cold."

Buffy nodded and took another bite of her Fettucini. "Okay, but you still haven’t answered how you know Edna."

END OF CHAPTER 9

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　


	10. EDNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike finally reveals to Buffy how he knows Edna, why he's helped her througout the years, and Angel's role in the story.
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated. :)

****

**CHAPTER 10 - EDNA**

Spike took a couple more bites of his nearly blood-red steak, then continued the story.

"As I told you, once we got to Hollywood, I took a few little side ventures up to this area to check it out. Did this mostly when the gang was busy with some big Hollywood parties they'd get themselves invited to. Darla and Angel, in particular, could dress the part of belonging to the whole Hollywood scene, what with all that foppery and finery. Dru could look the part, too; long as she didn't open her mouth, that is," he said with a sad little smile.

"So anyway, they'd ingratiate themselves in some scene or another, get invited to lots of parties over a period of weeks and months, until they were totally accepted. Angel passed himself off as an independently wealthy, Irish businessman who had made his fortune in steel or some such thing. Darla played the part of his wife, and Drusilla as her sister," Spike said.

Buffy stopped eating, listening to this part of Angel's life she'd never heard before.

"I went to one or two of their parties, but honestly, it just turned my stomach. All those people playing at pretending to be something they weren't. Or wanted to be. Reminded me too much of those stupid parties I use to feel so out of place at back home; before I was turned," Spike said, his mouth turned up scornfully at the memory.

"Besides, bad-ass vampire here! Didn't want to play footsies and make nice with my next meal; just wanted to get on with the festivities, if you know what I mean."

Buffy nodded. She knew exactly what kind of vampire Spike had been.

"Not Angel, Darla, and Dru, though; they played their parts to perfection! They went to all the happenin’ parties and gave them, too. Finally, when they tired of a certain group of dandies, they'd go to one final party scene. They’d maneuver the crowd so that they’d all wind up in some small room or a wine cellar, where there was only one way in and out. Then they’d go to town on the hapless sods, though not without some terrorizing and torturing first, I imagine. They were a lot like the Charles Manson and gang of their day, ‘cept with fangs."

Buffy shuddered. She also knew what kind of vampire _Angel_ had been, but had tried hard not to think about it for a long time.

"During the times they were preoccupied, with all party-going and whatnot, I’d just lie and tell them I was going off somewhere else to do whatever, and would make my way back up here. They knew the party scene wasn’t my scene, so I didn’t think they suspected anything," Spike said with a shrug.

"I mentioned that they all dressed the part, right? Even I had to do a bit of that; dress for the age, times, and area I’d find myself in; just not to the extremes they went to."

 

Buffy nodded, trying to picture what a prospective landowner would have looked like back in the earlier part of the twentieth century. Her imagination putting him in everything from a waistcoat, top hat, and walking stick, to western trousers, cowboy hat, and a bolero tie. Still, she couldn’t let that one go!

"So, you’re saying you changed your attire according to the times, huh?"

"Yeah, that’s what I said…what?" Spike asked seeing her trying to hold back a laugh.

Buffy put out both of her hands, palms up, towards him. "I’m just trying to figure out what happened to the, _‘I change my look according to the times, etc.’_ , motto? Because I got to tell you, Spike, as sexy and cool as you make the coat and the hair look, it _is_ a look that fit better back in 1983, rather than 2003."

Spike glared at her reproachfully.

"Ha-bloody-ha, Slayer. Just like the look, okay? Besides, these days one doesn’t stand out looking different as much as one would back then, not to mention…wait. Think I look sexy do you?" Spike asked, grinning.

Buffy just laughed, the sound warming his insides.

"And still, Spike, you've told me all _this_ , but not about _…"_

Before she could finish, Edna walked into the room.

"How’s my favorite Valentine's Day couple doing with their dinner?" she asked, smiling at them.

"Fine!" Buffy and Spike answered at the same time.

"Can I bring you anything else? Another bottle of champagne?"

"Could I please have a glass of water?" asked Buffy.

"Why certainly, dear," Edna answered, then turned towards Spike.

"Master…I mean, _William_? Anything else, anything at all you need?"

"No thank you, Edna. I'm doing just fine," he replied, with a smile.

"Very good, then. I'll be right back with Elizabeth's water," she said and hurried out.

Spike and Buffy were quiet during that time, knowing that any conversation they would start would likely be interrupted momentarily.

Edna was back in a minute with the glass of water.

As soon as she left, Buffy looked pointedly at Spike.

"Okay, okay, Slayer. I'm getting there," he said, laughing at her persistence to not let go of something. Then again, that was what he loved about her, one of the many things.

"Edna’s husband came to this country from Ireland in 1930. He lived in New York for about nine years, working at various jobs, but didn't want to stay there. Like my brother, he’d also heard about the money to be made in California. However, before he went west he wanted to find a wife. He didn't have any luck in New York. The Irish girls in the states had become more independent that the girls he knew back home, they worked, had their own money, and so on. So, _Lawrence McKennitt,_ that was his name, went back to Ireland to find a bride. That's where he met _Edna Brannagan_ , a lovely, lively 18-year-old young woman who was taken with the 35-year-old man, who told her stories of America, and in particular, California."

"He was a lot older than her, though I suppose there always have been girls who like older men," Buffy commented.

"Good for me then, yeah?" Spike asked.

"What?"

Spike just looked at her, eyebrow arching.

Not-so-quick-study Buffy finally caught his drift. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled nonetheless. "Yeah, I guess it _is_ good for you, Spike."

"Where was I?" Spike asked, flustered by her soft, teasing smile.

"Lawrence and Edna," she reminded him.

"Okay, so Lawrence courts Edna for about a year, marries her, then brings her over to America. With a small dowry from her parents, they head west to Julian, after hearing of the new gold rush from one of my investors. They decided to buy one of the former restaurants and the small hotel next door. Edna figures it would a good thing to keep it family friendly for the investors and their workmen, so the town doesn’t turn into a rough place.

Buffy was finished eating; she pushed her plate away.

"Good?" Spike asked.

"Delicious!" Buffy answered, handing him her champagne glass for a refill.

Spike poured her and himself some more, "We could use another bottle, looks like," he said.

Just then Edna came in with a chocolate cake, frosted in white, with a blood-red heart in the middle, with their names, William and Elizabeth written in the middle in white.

"What’s this?" Spike asked.

"Oh, just a little something for my favorite couple," Edna said, setting down two plates, clean forks, and a serving knife.

"May I cut you a piece?" she asked.

"Please," Buffy said handing her the plate.

"Master…oh, there I go again! I mean would you like some, too, _William_?"

"Sure, why not? Did you make this?" he asked.

"Of course. Make all my own cakes here, just like always," Edna answered.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"How about another bottle of champagne?" Spike said.

"Oh, no. I don’t think I can, should. How about some coffee, instead?" Buffy suggested.

"Bring Elizabeth and me two coffees, but we’ll take that bottle of champagne to go, if that’s allowed," Spike said.

"Of course it’s allowed, William; for you anything! I’ll be right back with the coffees," Edna said, leaving the room.

"Yum, chocolate-y cake goodness!" Buffy said, smiling.

Spike smiled back. He couldn’t imagine anything better than to just be sitting looking at her, enjoying her company, with her smiling and relaxing. It was something so normal for most, yet something so hard for her to ever have.

Edna came back with the two coffees, cream, and sugar. She left after setting them down, bidding them to enjoy their desserts and coffees.

"How’d you meet her, Spike?" Buffy said, nodding her head toward Edna, as she retreated back to the kitchen.

"Back when I first came here, I only came at night, of course. Not the easiest thing to do, but I managed, somehow," Spike said.

"I pretty much hated having anything to do with humans, except as a means to an end, of course. Not like Angel and them. Didn’t want to get to know any humans, didn’t want to do anything except use them for what I needed."

"Of course, having to deal in property and gold changed the amount I had to deal with them quite a bit, even if only indirectly."

"So, I was up here on my property one night; used to sleep in a cave up there. Anyway, I decided to come down to town one night; something I’d never done before. So, I’m walking through the town and I hear an argument between two men, and then I hear a woman scream. I don’t know what made me go investigate. Didn’t usually care to involve myself in the problems of humans, but that night I did."

"Lawrence had thrown out a drunk customer who had apparently made a lewd remark about Edna, and now the drunk had come back with a knife. He had already cut Lawrence in the arm; could smell the blood, you know. They’re fightin’ out behind the restaurant, Lawrence is on the ground and the drunk is advancing with knife in hand."

"What happened then?" Buffy said, fork with cake suspended in mid-air.

"I reach the guy, just as he’s about to gut Lawrence, throw him off him, and pummel him until he’s almost dead. I know I must’ve vamped out during the fight, almost always did back then, better fighter when I let the demon out. Lawrence didn’t see it, but when I looked up and back towards the restaurant, Edna was in the window. I…I think she must have seen me vamp out, though she never said a thing.

Anyway, Lawrence is hurt, but minor compared to what it might’ve been. Edna comes out to take care of him, and I start to take off," Spike said.

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

"Lawrence stops Edna from attending to him, and he comes running after me, calling out ‘What’s your name, young fellow?’ I’m dumbfounded. I haven’t had a _voluntary_ conversation with a human in decades, not to mention; helped one of them. I tried to keep going, but something makes me stop. He’s got a warm, friendly face, and I find myself answering him. ‘William. _William Worthington_ ,’ I say, nearly stumbling over my given name, it had been so long since I used it."

"Well, _William Worthington_ , I want extend my most humble thanks for you most graciously and kindly coming to my aid back there. Fellow came in earlier and insulted my dear, lovely wife, Edna, with his dirty mouth and lascivious, boorish behavior. Then an hour later, he came back with a knife," Lawrence tells me.

"I tell him it’s no problem, and try once again to take my leave. I’m more than eager to get back to my cave, but Lawrence was a persistent bugger, and I find myself wavering, He tells me that he and Edna would be _honored_ if I’d join them for a glass of wine, or better still, be their guest for dinner. The git is nearly pleading with me to join them, mind you.

I don’t know why, but I accept his offer. I really don’t. Maybe I was just lonely for somebody else’s company besides my own. Didn’t have much to do with Angel and them during that time. So, I come back with Lawrence to the restaurant, _this_ very restaurant. I follow him around to the front this time. They’ve already closed up for the night, but make a big fuss of wanting to open up just for me and invite me in, but I refuse. I _don’t_ want to go inside; know myself too well to trust myself to behave. For that matter, don’t even know why I _didn’t_ want to; would’ve been so easy to…still, just saved the poor sod, so I didn’t. Since I won’t go in, Edna brings Lawrence and me a couple bottles of wine and glasses out to the porch.

All this time I’m wondering if Edna had seen me vamp. She’s looking kind of strangely at me, as she’s pouring our wine, but not in a scared manner, only questioningly, if you get my drift," Spike said.

Buffy nodded, completely enthralled by his story.

"After we’re all settled with our wine, she thanks me again for saving Lawrence, then went back inside the restaurant. That was the only time I spoke to, or had direct contact with her for the next twenty-five years. Except once, two years later." Spike said.

"Why? What happened two years later?" Buffy asked.

"Getting’ to that. First things first, okay?"

Buffy nodded.

"So Lawrence asks me about myself. He already knew of me by name, and that I owned the land."

"How?"

"Just so happens, one of my investors was a friend of his from back east; in fact, he was the one who first told him and Edna about Julian. He asks me where I’m staying and I just tell him I’m pitching a tent while I’m up here. Lawrence suggests that I build myself a house on some of the property that I own. Gives me names of contractors, and even tells me he’ll help me," Spike said, shaking his head.

"Up until that point, I’d never really considered doing such a thing. Never lived in a place I owned. Usually we’d just kill someone and take over livin’ in the place. Never had I thought about having something like a house of my own. But that night, it somehow seemed to make sense, and suddenly, more than anything I’d ever wanted, I wanted to build a house, here in this area, a place of my own, a place…" Spike stopped, self-conscious of the yearning he heard in his own words. He looked up at Buffy, who was openly staring at him.

Spike hadn’t realized that he’d reached across the table taken her hand when he had let the last sentences’ words trail off.

Buffy looked down at his hand. His hand, soft, strong; scared by many battles. She put her other hand on top of his, tracing its shape, the shape of his fingers, his nails.

"Go on," she encouraged.

Spike cleared his throat. "Right. So, with Lawrence’s help in setting up the contractors, etc., I start having my house built. In the meantime, Edna becomes pregnant with their first and only child, and I’m spending more time here than I should," Spike says.

"Why? Why more time than you should?"

"Well, luv, remember how I’d said that I never told another person about this place, except for you and Clem?"

Buffy nodded.

"Well, it would seem that what I _assumed_ to be my ‘unmissed absences’, didn’t entirely go unnoticed by Angel, Darla, and Dru," Spike said, a hard edge creeping into his voice.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, a feeling of dread settling over her.

"After I returned to Hollywood, Angel decided we were all going to go to San Francisco for a while. I didn’t want to leave, but the house was already being built and Lawrence had the money to hire the workers and all that, so I really didn’t need to be there. Besides, couldn’t very well oppose him. Back then, I just outwardly did what he wanted me to, more or less."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Buffy said, knowing the seething animosity the two had for each other, plus Spike’s stubborn nature.

"Yeah, well, find it hard to believe myself; true though. As much as I hate to admit this; especially to you, back then I was afraid of the ponce," he said, looking down. "That and…well, they were still the only _family_ I had.

Angel tells me to take the girls up to San Francisco. He says that he’ll join us in a few days, and he does, and I don’t think anything of it, wasn’t that unusual. So, for next two years we’re living up there; all the while, I don’t have any idea what’s happening in Julian, but I wasn’t that worried. I’d given Lawrence carte blanche to make decisions in my absence, and for some reason, I trusted him, although I did want to see how things were going.

The couple of years pass – mere minutes to a vampire - and Angel decides he wants to go back to England for a while with Darla. At the time, Dru and I were living on our own, but we were fighting. She was gone half the time anyway, carrying on with some demon or other creature. So, she one day she up and decides she’s going to go with Angel and Darla. The bint didn’t even bother to tell me. By the time I find out they’ve _all_ actually gone it’s a couple months later. I’m overjoyed! Finally, a chance to come back up here, check how things are going, and see the finished house for the first time.

I get back here in early 1943 or thereabouts. The first thing I do is to go to the site where my home is supposed to have been built, and what do you think I find?" Spike asked bitterly, as he threw back the last of his glass of champagne.

"I don’t know, what?" Buffy asked, fearing what he was going to tell her.

"I find that _my house_ is not much more than a foundation and a few walls, which don’t even seem to be holding up. Looks like barely any work has been done in all the time I’d been gone. I’m furious with Lawrence! I feel betrayed and stupid that I trusted a human! I’m sure that he must’ve taken my money and kept if for his self. I vow to find and kill him, Edna, and any offspring they have!" Spike said, his voice low and dangerous.

"What happened next?" Buffy asked, a shiver running through her.

"Well, I go into town, and head straight over here. The first thing I notice is that this restaurant is boarded up with a _‘Closed by Order of the Town of Julian,’_ sign nailed to the door, and next door at the hotel, I see a _‘Foreclosure,’_ sign on the front lawn.

Well, I forget all about my anger and go running over to the hotel and bang on the door. A bedraggled woman who looks like a much, much older version of the young woman I remembered, answers the door carrying a little tyke, not much more than 18 months old, on her hip _. ‘Where’s Lawrence? Where’s Edna? Where are the people who use to own the restaurant and this place?’_ I demand, yelling at the poor woman," Spike recounted.

"Shocked, she takes a good long look at me and I at her. _‘Master Worthington?’_ she says to me in a shaking voice. ‘Edna?’ I manage to get out, almost too shocked for words.

The poor woman bursts out cryin’ as she invites me into her once bustling hotel foyer. Over the next three hours or so, she tells me that Lawrence is dead, and, _more importantly,_ how he’d died. Immediately, I recognize _what_ it was that killed him: a vampire; more specifically, I know exactly _who_ killed him."

"Angel?" Buffy whispered.

" _Angel,_ " Spike spat the name, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists. "Would know the bastard’s modus operandi anywhere!"

"Oh, God, Spike. Poor Edna!"

He nodded. "I tell you, I was sick to the depths of my non-soul. Obviously, I must’ve left some small hint of where I’d been for Angel to find. Either that or he followed me.

Edna told me how one day; this _gentleman_ came to stay for a while at their hotel. She thought it odd that he slept all day, but overlooked it, as he would engage them in interesting talk during the night. However, she said he kept asking about the new gold rush, and more specifically, who was owned it and who was selling, and other things that seemed odd. She said that Lawrence told her he didn’t trust him, so that he kept being evasive. In fact, Lawrence stopped work on my place, waiting for him to leave.

Unfortunately, that’s the very day Lawrence was viciously killed. And of course, the _gentleman_ disappears," Spike said, bitterly.

"So, Angel kills Lawrence and now Edna is without support?" Buffy asked, angrily wiping at the corner of her eyes, then added, "What happened to the money you’d given Lawrence, for your place?"

"That’s the thing that really had me, luv! Edna put that money aside. She was losing everything she had, the restaurant, the hotel, _everything_. And all this time, she had money that she could have used. But she didn’t. She didn’t know how to get in touch with me, if I was dead or alive, but she didn’t touch it, went into bankruptcy, instead," Spike said, shaking his head.

"So you helped her out?" Buffy asked.

Spike nodded.

"Yeah. What else was I supposed to do? Couldn’t let her and the little one starve, now could I? So, yeah, paid off her restaurant and her hotel. Then I put aside some money so that her son, Lawrence Jr., could go to college one day.

I felt guilty. If I’d never left some sort of trail…something that let Angel know that I’d either been here or was interested in the place, then he would never have come up here, would have never killed Lawrence," Spike said, sadly.

"Did she know _what_ it was that killed him? _What_ Angel was?" Buffy asked.

"Not sure, but she described the way he was killed, so there was no doubt in _my_ _mind_ whose handiwork it was. It was just like Angel, like leaving me a postcard, almost. And that was what I think he intended to do. He’d somehow found out that I had been here, and wanted to let me know that he still had _power and domini_ on over me, that I would not go behind his back and live any kind of life without his knowledge and approval."

"So, you never saw her again after that?" Buffy asked.

"You mean _my grandfather_ didn’t see her again?" Spike said, with a little smile.

"No, I sent her money through a solicitor, but I didn’t want to see her again. It was too painful. That and the fact that as the years went on, she aged, but I didn’t.

By the time I did decide to come back here, decide to start building again, I sent a telegram that William Worthington; that is, _my grandfather,_ had died back in England. Then his son, William Worthington II, _my_ _father_ , eventually started having a relationship with Edna and her son, who was by then out of college. Did I mention that Lawrence, Jr. became a solicitor? In fact, he’s been mine and _my_ _father’s_ lawyer for years," Spike said with a chuckle.

"How’s that even work? I mean, you obviously look _exactly_ like your _father and grandfather._ Why wouldn’t Edna notice the _exact-sameness_?" Buffy asked.

"I just gave it time, luv. Every forty or fifty years or so, one generation of _William Worthingtons_ dies _,_ then I usually wait a couple of decades or so before the _son_ comes up here to take over the house building and improving, and looking after Edna. During that time, fashions change, times change, I change…’cept the past twenty or so, as you pointed out," Spike ceded with a grin.

"So where is Edna’s son, now?" Buffy asked.

"He’s lives in San Diego now, semi-retired now, but used to practice back east. Did I tell you what Edna did? She gave her son _William_ as a middle name after I’d paid off her loans. He always sort of thought of me as his godfather. Can you imagine that, Buffy? An evil vampire for a godfather?" Spike laughed.

"That’s not what you were to Edna and her son," Buffy said.

"No, but in reality, that is what I was during most all that time. It was only when I was _here_ , that I was more than that…for them."

"They believed in you, and you didn’t break their belief," she said simply.

"How could I? I’d already brought misery into their lives, changed their lives forever, and they didn’t even know it."

"It wasn’t your fault," Buffy said, reaching across the table for his hand.

"Wasn’t it? Really?" Spike said, pulling his hand away.

"I don’t think so," she answered.

They were silent for a few minutes, thinking and drinking their coffees. Edna entered the room carrying a large bag.

"What’s this then?" Spike asked.

"Oh, just some goodies for you and Elizabeth to take up to your place. There are a

couple of bottles of champagne, cake, and some leftovers from all the dinners we cooked tonight. I don’t mean customer’s leftovers, but freshly cooked from the kitchen. Also I gave you some eggs, milk, and coffee for tomorrow morning," Edna said, handing the oversize bag to Spike.

"That’s very kind of you, dear. What would I ever do without you?" Spike said to her fondly, as he stood up.

"I think that’s the other way around, Master…I mean, _Will_ …Oh, you! Go on now," Edna said, blushing furiously when Spike suddenly grabbed her hand and kissed it.

Buffy couldn’t help but grin at his chivalrous antics that made the older woman behave like a schoolgirl. She cleared her throat as she stood up. "Do you have a washroom I could use?"

Obviously still flustered by _William’s_ attention, Edna unconsciously patted down her skirt before answering.

"Of course, dear, but it’s up on the second floor. Just walk to the front where you came. If you look to the left of the door as you’re facing it, you’ll see the stairs."

"Great. _William_ , I’ll meet you by the front door in about five minutes or so, okay?" Buffy said.

"Okay, luv. See you in a few."

Buffy walked towards the kitchen. Before she turned the corner, she looked back to see Spike and Edna in the hallway, standing companionably side by side as though they’d known each other forever. Amazingly enough, they very nearly had.

END OF CHAPTER 10

　

　

　

　

　

　

 


	11. THE GIFT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they leave The Rittenhouse Restaurant, Buffy and Spike find gifts for each other. Introduction of her necklace, and its significance, which makes somewhat frequent apperances not only in this story, but the sequel, as well.
> 
> Also, not knowing if she'll ever be able to tell Spike what he's meant to her - esp. since she doesn't believe she'll live through the coming apocalpyse, Buffy leaves a note with Edna, to be given to him at a later date.

****

**CHAPTER 11 - THE GIFT**

Buffy made her way up the narrow stairs, looking at old photographs along the stairway, until she got the second floor. The second floor, aka, the antique shop, was not much more than a somewhat small, but densely packed room. Following the signs, she made her way to the far end of the room, found and used the restroom, then brushed her hair and fixed herself up as best she could in the dim light.

Walking back through the store, she decided to have a quick look around before going to meet Spike at the front door. The room had the general collections of antique accoutrements from eras gone by. At least there wasn't any kitsch from the 70's, like so many other shops. This was the real deal. As she was about to leave, she saw a little sign that said, _BOOKS,_ and a sign leading up to yet another floor. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to have a quick look, she ascended the second staircase.

"Maybe I'll find something to read this weekend. Suppose to relax, right? Maybe even find one of those philosophy books," she mused to herself.

However, after looking for a few minutes, she decided there wasn't anything she really felt like she could get into. Just as she was about to go back downstairs, she gave the nearest shelf one final look. There on the top shelf, was a book pushed almost to the back. Something made her curious to find out what it was, so she pulled an empty milk crate that was nearby over towards the shelf and stood up on it.

She pulled the old book off of the shelf and blew off the dust. It was bound in a heavy brown leather, with red writing, which read, _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare._

Buffy looked inside for a date, but could only manage to find something in Roman numerals.

"Stupid Roman numerals!" Buffy mumbled. She was just about to put it back, when an idea came to her that made her smile.

She took the book and headed back downstairs to pay for it.

On the second floor again, she saw Edna standing behind a counter that held an old-fashioned cash register.

"Thought you might be needing my assistance, Miss Elizabeth," Edna said.

"Thanks, I do. I'd like to purchase this," Buffy said, laying down the book.

"Oh, this is very nice. I didn't know we still even had this. I haven't seen it for years," Edna said.

"It was pretty high up on a top shelf. I had to stand on the milk crate in order to reach it. I hope that was alright," Buffy said.

"Oh, perfectly fine, Elizabeth, perfectly fine," Edna said, then added, "I think Master William will really like it."

"How did you know I'm buying it for him?" Buffy asked, slightly defensive. "I could be buying it for myself."

"Of course you could, dear, but with Master William having that lovely English accent, just thought you'd want to have him read it to you," Edna said, winking at her.

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh. "Ok, so you got me. It _is_ for him, though that's a nice idea you had; maybe I will have him read it aloud. Do you think he'll like Shakespeare?"

"I think that Master William is bound to, Elizabeth. Let me explain. As long as I've known him - though I don't profess to really know him well at all, not even after all these years - I've thought of him, as being like a deep, dark well. And in there, inside that deep, dark well, I think he has many secrets, and many different parts of himself, too. So, I suspect that a Shakespeare-reading self might just be in there, too. Don't you?" Edna asked.

"He's not just dark," Buffy blurted out, before she could stop herself.

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that; not at all. I've just always sensed a great sadness, a great yearning in Master William. In his father and grandfather, as well. Guess it's a family trait, although I'd swear they are remarkable most alike. The only difference I’ve ever been able to really see are the clothes and mannerisms that come with each age," Edna said, looking at Buffy oh-so-innocently.

Buffy didn't know what to say, so she just asked, "How much is the book?"

"Let's see here," Edna said, opening the front cover. "Oh, good, it's good that nobody ever wrote in this. I'd say it's $3.00."

"Is that all? You sure?"

Edna nodded.

Buffy paid her for the book. A little pad of paper with faint pink hearts on the counter caught her attention, and she decided to do something on the spur of the moment.

"May I?" Buffy asked, nodding towards the pad of paper.

"Of course," Edna answered.

Buffy took a pen out of her purse and taking a few minutes, wrote:

 __

 _Valentine’s Day, 2003_

 _Dear Spike,_

 _I just wanted to thank you, not only for the lovely evening tonight, but for all the times that you have taken care of me. I know I haven’t always deserved it – far from it, but I want you to know that it’s meant more to me than I can ever say. I never have been very good with words – at least not the soft and sweet kind -, as you know._

 _I know you want to save me from what’s coming, but I don’t think you can. I don’t think anybody can._

 _If Edna gives this to you after I’m gone, I just wanted you to know that you’ve been in my heart for a long time. I want to tell you to your face, but as usual, my timing is pretty sucky. I do mean it, though. I mean it. You **are** in my heart._

 _Please don’t mourn me like last time – Dawn told me how bad it was for you and I’m so sorry. I don’t want to put you, Dawn, or my friends through this again, but I have to do what I was called upon to do – save the world. Really, though, I just want to save my friends and those that are in my heart._

 _Live, Spike. Live for me._

 _Love,_

 _Buffy_

After she was done, she folded it in half twice.

 _"Would you like an envelope?"_

 _Buffy nodded, taking it from Edna, who had produced it from somewhere underneath the counter. She put the note inside, and sealed it. On the outside of the envelope, she simply wrote, "To William, From Elizabeth, Feb. 14, 2003."_

 _"Edna, can I ask you a favor? A special favor?"_

 _"Of course, dear. What is it?"_

 _"If Spi… if you see _William_ again sometime, anytime in the future - it doesn't matter how long from now - but if you see him and I'm not with him, would you please, please give him this from me? It’s important," Buffy said, handing her the note, feeling that Edna would see to it, no matter when that might be._

"Oh, my dear," Edna said solemnly, sensing the gravity of the words. "Of course, I’ll see that William gets it if you’re not here to give it give it to him yourself. But why on earth wouldn’t you…"

"Thank you," Buffy said, cutting her off. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. She’d already said too much, and she could tell she’d upset Edna.

"It was so nice meeting you. I…I hope I see you again," Buffy said, putting the book into her purse and hurrying toward the stairs.

"I do too, dear, I do, too," Edna said softly, to Buffy's retreating figure.

　

After Buffy had gone upstairs, Spike had gone to the front door of the restaurant to wait for her. As he was standing there, he saw door slightly ajar, with a light coming from within it. Walking over, he looked inside, and saw a small room full of, yet, more antiques. Whereas the antiques on the second floor were more along the line of housewares, books, furniture, and whatnot, these were more of the girly-type of things such as jewelry, hairbrushes, mirrors, little frames, etc. Nonetheless, he pushed the door open, and walked in. He half-heartedly looked around for a few minutes, until something under glass at the jewelry counter caught his eye.

It was the most unusual necklace he'd ever seen. The necklace had a delicate chain, which came down on either side to two little pieces of lavender glass, connected by a little brass shell. Under the shell was a couple of little links, and finally there was the main piece: a brass heart holding two lovebirds. Above and below the heart were two other pieces of the little lavender glass, one above and almost between their heads, the other between their tails. The heart dissected the birds, right at their tails. There was a sort of half rectangle of brass that had two tiny, white cloisonné flowers on both ends. The half rectangle sort of dissected the heart (or would have, if it had gone all the way through) and it also served as the bird's perch.

Edna had come in and watched him staring at the necklace.

"Would you like to see that, Master William?"

He startled, not having even sensed her presence at first.

"Yes, please."

She handed the necklace to him and watched as his fine hands caressed the birds within the heart. She could almost see him putting it on Elizabeth's pretty neck, and imagine the delight in his face as she opened the box and saw it for the first time; lovingly holding it in her hands as she looked at William with eyes that spoke of love...

All too well, she remembered how she herself felt when Lawrence had first put it around her neck. It was the night he asked her to become his wife, and to come to California with him.

"How much for this?" William asked her.

She wanted to just give it to him, but knew he wouldn't accept it, "Oh, let's see, hm… how much was that again? Oh, I remember now. Ten dollars," Edna told him.

"That all? You sure about that?"

Edna nodded.

"Okay, I'll take it," Spike said, handing her the money. "Do you have a box, by any chance?"

She nodded, and reached down, getting out the purple, heart-shaped box that she remembered so well. She put the necklace inside. Smiling, as she looking at it one last time, she closed the lid. She put the ten dollars into her skirt pocket, and handed William the box, which he then carefully placed in his inner coat pocket.

"She'll love it," Edna said to him.

"Thanks, I think so, too," he said, happy to have found this little beautiful thing for her.

Edna had gone upstairs afterwards, and taken care of Elizabeth's purchase. It was so cute, how they had each thought to buy the other one something, secretly.

She walked downstairs as they were leaving, "Come back soon Master William, Miss Elizabeth," Edna said.

"We will. And thank you for the lovely dinner," Spike said.

Buffy echoed his sentiments.

Edna watched them as they walked out the door, then turned and picked up the little sign that had fallen off of the door to the room where William had found the necklace; it read, _The Rittenhouse Museum Antiques Room._

END OF CHAPTER 11

　

 


	12. MAGIC GATES IN THE NIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike arrive at his house. More secrets are revealed. Clem!

****

**CHAPTER 12 - MAGIC GATES IN THE NIGHT**

"It got cold," Buffy said, shivering, as they walked to the car.

"Yeah, usually does up here, this time of year," Spike said, starting to take off the short jacket he wore and offer it to her.

She shook her head.

"Don’t be stubborn, Slayer! You’re freezing and I don’t really need it for that."

"I know that, Spike and I appreciate the offer, but I actuall _y_ _did_ bring a warm jacket of my own. If you could just open the car…"

"Yeah, sure," he said, putting the key into the passenger side door lock and opening it for her.

Buffy knelt on the front seat and pulled the jacket out from her luggage. Spike waited until she was all zipped up and buckled in before closing the door.

Spike took a deep breath as he walked over to his side of the car, suddenly nervous at the prospect of showing her his house. The last time he’d been up there had been after he’d come back from Africa; after he’d gotten his soul, after…

"Be there in a mo’, he said, reaching in and turning on the ignition. He backed out and closed the door before she could say anything. He lit a cigarette with trembling hands, and inhaled deeply.

"Get a grip, mate. Not.Bloody.About.You!" He mumbled, smashing the cigarette under his boot before getting into the car.

"What? Just wanted a bit of a smoke; knew you wouldn’t approve me doing it in here," Spike said, in answer to her quizzical look.

"Uh-huh. Spike…?"

"Everything’s fine, Buffy," he said, and once again, mentally berating himself for making her worry.

"Fine. I should check with home," Buffy said, taking out her phone, and ignoring the sudden weirdness that was Spike. She started to call, then hesitated.

"What’s the matter?"

"Nothing, I mean, I _want_ to call and check in, check up, whatever. I guess I just don’t want to _everyone_ to know I’m on the phone."

Especially, if one of _everyone_ would undoubtedly be Giles.

Spike nodded, knowingly. "Why don't you just plug the computer into the phone, then? That way you can see what’s going on without having to talk."

"Good idea," she agreed, pulling out her laptop and connecting it with to the phone like Willow had shown her before they left.

"Wow, it works," she exclaimed.

Spike glanced over at the screen, where the main camera just happened to be pointed to the living room.

"Looks pretty normal," he said, seeing all the potentials, Giles, Xander, and Willow standing or sitting about.

"Hey, Will's online," Buffy said, hearing the chime of her AIM messenger.

Wicca1: Buffy, you there?

Slay1: Yeah, here.

Wicca1: Where are you?

Slay1: In the car. How's everyone? Problems?

Wicca1: Fine. No problems. No FE.

Slay1: Good!

Spike looked over at the screen, and groaned.

"Wicca1? Slay1? That the best handles you lot can come up with, Slayer? Best hope _The First’s_ Bringer _s_ aren’t too computer savvy _._ Then again, don’t need to be a nerd to figure those out."

"Yeah, yeah. We were in a hurry, alright?"

He just shook his head.

Wicca1: I tried to IM you before, where were you?

Slay1: IM?

Wicca1: Instant Messenger. J

Slay1: Ah…Eating, restaurant.

Wicca1: Two in a row.

Slay1: What? Two in a row?

Wicca1: Restaurants

Slay1: Yeah, guess so.

Wicca1: Nice?

Slay1: Very

Wicca1: Which one?

Slay1: Huh?

Wicca1: Nicer?

Slay1: This one.

Wicca1: Company, too?

Slay1: Uh-huh.

Slay1: Nosey!

Wicca1: "Oh, Spike," _she_ gasped, "I just _love_ your 'evil energy."

Wicca1: J

Slay1: Say, how's _Kennedy_???

"What’s happening?" Spike asked, hearing her briskly tapping the keyboard.

"Nothing. Everything’s fine," she said, turning to him and giving him a smile.

"Good."

Slay1: Spike says hello.

Wicca1: Back at him, tell him I still think it’s ROMANTIC…

Slay1: I will NOT!

Wicca1: Giles wants to talk to you.

Slay1: I _don’t_ want to talk to him.

Wicca1: I’ll tell him I lost the connection.

Slay1: Thanks, Will

Wicca1: Bye ;)

Slay1: Bye, talk to you tomorrow.

Slay1: Tell the girls and Dawn, "I'll be watching them!"

Wicca1: k

Slay1: bye

Wicca1: bye

"Well, what do you know? Guess that makes me a geek now, too," Buffy said, as she disconnected the phone/modem and laptop from each other.

"Never, luv. Ingenious, intuitive, inventive, in…whatever, but not a geek, though," Spike said.

"So, lets see…I’m all things that start with ‘I ‘? Why not ‘G’?

Spike cocked his head at her.

"You know, ‘G’ as in Geek…or not."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head that started with ‘G’. Wait, there’s gorgeous, great, graceful, grand…could do the whole alphabet if you like, luv."

"That’s okay, Spike. I’ll take a pass."

"Admirable, bold, cherished, determined, efful…eloquent…faithful."

"Stop. I beg of you," Buffy said, blushing.

He grinned at her, doing as she asked. Didn’t stop him from finishing _the Alphabet of Buffy_ in his head, though. They drove along, following the road back out of town before veering off the main road about two miles out.

"Gonna get sort of bumpy, Slayer," Spike said, as they approached the dirt road.

" _Buffy._ I want to be just _Buffy_ this weekend, not Slayer," she corrected him.

He gave a short nod.

"Going to get sort of bumpy, _Buffy_."

" _Bumpy-Buffy._ Okay, okay, if you _have_ to say words like that together, you can use _'Slayer,'_ but only under those conditions," she said rolling her eyes.

As Spike drove on, Buffy could feel them heading up to a slightly higher elevation. A little over a mile later, he stopped the car.

"What is it? Did you take a wrong turn?" Buffy asked, seeing that the road abruptly ended in a forest of trees, as dense as that on either side of her.

"Wait here, you'll see," Spike said, getting out of the car.

She watched in the headlights, as Spike climbed up a nearby tree and seemingly disappeared down the other side. As she squinted, she could now vaguely make out a rather straight row of trees in directly in front of the car.

"What the...?"

Suddenly, the dozen or so trees started moving, half of them to the left and half of them to the right. Buffy stared as they separated, leaving an opening wide enough for a car to drive through, and then some. In the middle of the opening stood Spike, grinning at her.

He sauntered back to the car and got in.

"What do you think?"

"How What?" Buffy stammered. "How'd you do that? Are they real trees, or is the opening just cloaked with magic?"

"No, they’re real trees; just old ones no longer living. Got 'em attached to a moveable gate, so the road’s camouflaged. But, if you'd like to think of it as a secret, magic gate in the night, that's alright, too, luv," Spike said grinning cockily at a still disbelieving Buffy.

"Wow…"

"Pretty convincing, huh?"

"I'll say!"

"Couldn't take the chance on someone ever finding this, could I?"

"Guess not. No."

They drove in silence for another three-quarters of a mile. All of a sudden the Buffy could see lights through the trees.

"Spike! Look!" she said, pointing.

"It’s the house. You’ll see it better in a minute."

"But the lights…"

"No worries, Slayer, I mean, _Buffy._ Nothing bad is waitin’ for us. Just had Clem come up and set everything up for me, earlier," Spike said.

"Clem?"

"Yeah, I’ll explain all more about that later. He came up to start the generator. That’s how I have any electricity up here; had him bring some food, along with some clean bedding and towels, too. Good to change those every 50 years or so," Spike joked.

"Probably got a fire started in the fireplace, too, if I know him."

They soon pulled up in front of a large, log house.

The front door opened and Clem came outside, waving as he hurried over to the car.

"Howdy guys! I was wondering if you were going to be coming at all, I’ve been here for about six hours already."

"Had to wait until later in the day to get out of _Sunnyhell,_ then stopped by The Rittenhouse and got a bite to eat," Spike said, as he walked over to help Buffy out.

"Was Edna there? Did you see her?" Clem asked, starting to grab their overnight bags.

"Of course. Always is," Spike answered.

Clem turned his attention to Buffy.

"Hey, Girl! It’s good to see you! How are you? Did you enjoy the ride up? Isn’t that Edna something else?"

Buffy laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Hi, Clem, it’s good to see you, too. I’m good, I think. And yes, I enjoyed the ride up here, although I would’ve enjoyed a bit more of it if _somebody_ hadn’t let me sleep," she teased, nodding towards Spike.

"And yes, Edna is something. Everything is so…fine. It’s all fine," Buffy said, with another laugh, just trying to absorb each new revelation about Spike and this world - his world – that she’d known _nothing_ about before tonight.

Spike took some stuff into the house as Clem and Buffy continued to talk about the area, the restaurant, Edna, etc. A few minutes later, he came back outside. He walked over to the car, where he gently, but possessively took Buffy’s arm, in order to disengage her from any further conversation with Clem.

"Think the lady’s tired from the trip," Spike said.

"Of course she is," Clem cheerfully agreed. "Let me just get the rest of these bags into the house for you, and then I’ll be on my way."

Buffy stood there with Spike holding onto her arm, looking at the front of the house. On the wrap-around porch, there were some old-fashioned looking swings and chairs, which, despite the cold, suddenly looked awfully inviting.

Clem came back outside and down the steps. "Well, I’ll be going now, Boss. Will l see you guys tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you’ll see us tomorrow, maybe afternoon. Got your phone? Good, you know the drill" Spike said.

"That I do, Boss, that I do!" Clem said, walking off.

"Night, Buffy," he called back over his shoulder.

"Night Clem. See you tomorrow."

"Where’s he going? Why isn’t he staying here?"

"He’s got his own guest house about a quarter of a mile away," Spike said, motioning through the woods.

"Why’d he call you _Boss_?" Buffy asked.

"He sort of works for me when I need him to."

"Yeah? And how long has this been going on?"

"Years. Decades, really. Long story made short? Saved him once, a long time ago. He’s grateful, ergo, he works for me when I need him to. I keep him in poker kittens and whatever else he needs and he watches my back," Spike said.

"That’s it?"

"Look, can we talk about all that another time?"

Buffy nodded, already on sensory and mental overload as it was. She wasn’t sure she could take anymore surprises about Spike or _William_ tonight.

They stood silent, side-by-side looking at the stars in the cloudless sky; each lost in their own thoughts.

After a couple of minutes Spike turned towards her, a look of hopefulness in his eyes.

"Would you like to come in, Buffy?" Spike asked, smiling shyly.

Buffy returned his smile, her eyes shining.

"Yes I would Spike, very much."

He held out his arm to her, and she took it. Arm in arm, they walked up the steps to the porch, and into the house.

END OF CHAPTER 12

　

　

 


	13. IN THIS HOUSE THAT WILLIAM BUILT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy gets her first glimpses of the house that Spike/William (Spilliam?) built. They exchange gifts, and things start to get a bit heated between them.

****

**CHAPTER 13 – IN THIS HOUSE THAT WILLIAM BUILT**

Spike held the heavy wood door for Buffy, as they walked into the main living area, her eyes looked around taking in everything. Closely, he watched her, to gage her reaction.

 

From the way that the house looked on the outside, she was almost expecting the decor to be rustic or at the very least, minimalist, somewhat like what Spike’s crypt used to look like. At least after he decided to snag some furniture. Before that, she didn’t know what it could be considered, except, just what it was – a crypt.

So, to say that she was surprised by what she saw inside was an understatement. Besides the wooden high-beamed ceilings and architecture of the log house, the inside decor was anything but rustic or minimalist, for that matter.

It was Victorian! The wooden floors were covered in warm, decorative woolen carpets and all the furnishings, from sofa and chairs, to the decorations on the walls, were almost genteel in nature. What looked like mahogany and cherry wood chairs, were scattered throughout the living room, all covered with crushed velvet, maroon cushioned seats.

A tall settee stood near what Buffy assumed must be a dining room, off the side of the living room. There was also a little drawing table near one end of the far wall. She could see that a collection of books and papers lay on the top of it, accompanied by the only plain wooden chair in the room. The fire, which Clem had started for them, was just beginning to blaze. In front of the huge fireplace, sat the only piece of _somewhat_ modern furniture - an oversized, maroon leather couch, covered in throws and pillows. About five feet away from each end of the fireplace, were two doors, belonging to the bedrooms, she guessed.

"Wow, Spike. Just, wow," Buffy said, appreciatively. She'd almost laughed at the decor when she first saw it, but seeing him let out a sigh of relief, she was glad she’d suppressed the urge.

"Do you like it?"

"It's amazing, not at all what I expected from the outside. I guess I thought it would be woodsy or something. Then again, knowing _you_ , I guess I shouldn't _assume_ anything," Buffy said.

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah, guess the outside doesn't exactly go with the inside. I can explain my décor in one word: Edna."

Buffy arched her eyebrows. "Really? She decorated for you?"

"Not exactly. I never explained the rest of the story about the house getting built. I decided to finish this damn undertaking about forty years later or so. Prior to that, I just couldn’t face it, after what had happened to Lawrence. After I reintroduced myself to Edna, as _my father,_ and told her I was going to be working on the house again, she made me promise to let her know when it was finished. When it was, from that time and for years to come, whenever she would update and redecorate a guestroom at the hotel, I’d get the castoffs. If I weren’t around at the time, she’d just put the furniture in storage for me. Then, when I was about, I would go and pick it up and bring it here. And that, pet, is how I came to have a Victorian decorated log house," Spike said with a chuckle.

"Is it still a hotel? I didn’t see a sign, or maybe I just missed it."

"You didn’t miss it. It hasn’t been a hotel for the past thirty-five years or so. She closed it sometime in the late 70’s. Edna has always lived there, but when it got to be too much for her to run both, she chose to keep the restaurant open, and remodel the hotel. She hired workmen to tear down the walls between the rooms and made them into larger living quarters for her, and any family members that might come up to Julian to stay with her for a time."

Buffy absentmindedly nodded, as she walked towards the living room for a closer look around.

"I see you have a couple of newish things, too," Buffy said, pointing to the couch.

"Yeah, I love that couch! Believe it or not, that came from Edna's son, Lawrence. He used to keep a small house up here where he'd spend the summers; had it before the hotel was remodeled. Sold it a few years ago, just stays in San Diego now, but he gave me the couch and some other furnishings."

"I see," Buffy said, not knowing what else to say.

"I lied," Spike said after a pause.

"About what?" Buffy said, on guard all of a sudden.

"I told you last year that I'd ate a decorator once, and that maybe something stuck. I lied."

"About eating the decorator, or about something sticking?" Buffy deadpanned.

"I'll let you be the judge of that," Spike said, with a smirk.

"Fair enough," Buffy said, laughing.

"First, let me show you to your bedroom, in case you want to get yourself settled in. Then we can sit on my ' _newish'_ leather couch and enjoy the fireplace, if you'd like," Spike offered.

"Okay, lead the way."

Spike picked up her overnighter that Clem had left by the front door. Nodding to her to follow him, he led her to the room to the right of the fireplace. Buffy followed him in and looked around, curious to see what further surprises lie in store for her in this house that _William_ built. Against the opposite wall, was an old-fashioned four-poster bed, covered with a pretty flowered bedspread. The bedroom itself seemed slightly larger than hers was back home, but it could’ve been because the walls weren’t slanted. Then again, after having potentials sleeping on her floor every night, a _closet_ to call her own would’ve seemed luxurious at this point. The room also contained a desk, a large chest, and a small, delicately carved, wooden dresser against the same wall that the door was on, with a matching framed mirror. If nothing else, the _mirror_ was a dead giveaway that it once belonged to one of the remodeled rooms from Edna’s hotel.

"There's a bathroom over there. It’s between the bedrooms, but there's a lock on both inside doors, so don’t have to worry about that when you use it…"he trailed off, looking down at the floor.

"Okay," Buffy answered, answered softly. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it wasn’t about _this_ particular bathroom that had suddenly made him look so uneasy.

He cleared his throat. "The other door is to a closet, but it’s got a lot of…junk, and the dresser drawer’s are empty, so..."

"Got it, bathroom door locks, use the drawers, not the closet," Buffy said, adding, "Thanks, Spike."

He lost himself in her eyes for a moment, before nodding.

"I'll be outside for a minute to make sure that the pilot light on the water tank is lit. Don’t know if Clem took care of that or not. If not, might have to wait for a few hours for the water to warm up."

"It’s alright," Buffy said, as she walked over to take the overnighter from him, which he was still holding. She let her hand brush against his and linger there for moment, until he looked at her, "Really, Spike. If it’s not, I’ll deal with the _so-less-than-a-big-deal_ , okay?"

"Right," he said, reluctantly releasing the bag, and the moment. "See you in a few minutes, then?"

Buffy smiled and nodded.

He left her then, closing the door behind him.

She looked around the room for a few minutes, touching the desk, putting a few of her things into the empty drawers, and using the bathroom. Finally, she decided to change out of her clothes. She was just going to change into another sweater, but then decided that she'd just put on her flannel nightgown and a robe, then decided that would be too warm, and put on the shorty…with a robe. She rolled her eyes at her own indecision.

It wasn’t like Spike hadn’t seen her in pajamas before - much less, for that matter! "Doesn’t _mean_ anything," she told herself. It’s just about getting comfortable.

At the last minute, she changed into a silky, two-piece lavender pair of polyester pajamas…with the robe. She looked into the mirror one last time.

"There, not too sexy, not too flannel-y!"

She was almost to the door when she remembered something else. Backtracking to the dresser, she grabbed her purse.

Spike was sitting on the couch when she came out. She saw he’d changed his clothes, too. He had on a loose pair of gray drawstring pants, which he'd probably lifted from Xander, and his T-shirt had been exchanged for a bright silky, short blue robe, which was open. Buffy's breath caught for half a second at seeing his muscular, scared, and oh-so-inviting, chest. He was barefooted, too, which for some reason, always made her feel soft towards him. Somehow, Spike, sans boots, seemed so vulnerable, them being almost as much a part of him, as his black leather duster had been. The duster had been gone from his wardrobe for a while now, ever since _that_ night, when he’d left it behind. He’d never even asked her about it since he’d returned.

Spike stood up as Buffy came out of the bedroom. His heart warming at the sight of her; this unbelievably powerful woman, in the wrappings of a this small wisp of a girl wearing lavender pajamas sticking out from under a little white fuzzy robe which looked like she’d had since childhood. On her feet were matching white, fuzzy slippers.

He smiled, "Fire’s getting goin’ pretty good now, pet," he said, getting up and kneeling down in front of it, using the poker to move some wood around to a better position.

Buffy put her purse down on the couch, and came over to where Spike was kneeling. She had this overwhelming urge to touch his hair, run her hands through it, to squat down next to him fiercely hug him to her; any and all of the above, but she resisted. Instead, she just stood next to him. Close, intimate.

Spike felt her when she came up towards him, he always felt her. She was standing so close to him; her legs, her essence, so close he could smell her, drink her in, and the heat of the fire enhanced it all the more. He felt intoxicated.

If Spike had to pick just one thing, one extrasensory aspect about being a vampire that he relished the most, and would never want to give up, he knew which one he’d choose. It would be the ability to smell the delectable scents of a woman, of Buffy.

For this wasn’t what every man appreciates and recognizes as his partner’s womanly scents - her perfume, her shampoo, the sweat under her arms, or the musky wetness between her legs. This was so much more than that. It was as if he could read each molecule of her very essence. Each emotion she felt, each thought, each intention had it’s own molecular marker that he could track like a trail of breadcrumbs. It wasn’t even something he did consciously all of the time, but it was always there; always alerting him to just how she felt, what she wanted, what she might desire…the possibilities.

He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled Buffy’s womanly scent, so near, but yet so out of his reach. He gave the fireplace a final poke and stood up slowly, facing her. She turned as he did, looking at him, feeling the heat of the fireplace and the fire that was reflected in his eyes.

Abruptly the moment ended as Spike turned and walked over to the couch, sitting down and patting the seat, that she might do the same.

"I should check up on the home front," she said.

"Already did that when you were changing, luv. Here, it’s all set up. Just turn on this button, phone’s already hooked up," Spike said, showing her how to switch views from room to room back at her house.

"I guess I really should probably check this about once an hour," Buffy said, with a sigh.

"Let me do that for you, Buffy. You’re here to relax. Can’t see you sleeping very well, if every hour you have to wake up to check this. I can do this for you. I want to," Spike said.

"But Spike, you won’t get any sleep that way either. Maybe we could take turns or something," she suggested.

"No, tonight I’m on watch, Slayer, er, sorry, _Buffy_. I can easily wake up every hour and have a look-see, just have to tell myself to do so. Probably even set the bloody thing to beep at me, if you don’t think I can be trusted," Spike said.

"I trust you. Thank you, Spike," Buffy said, relieved in more ways than she cared to express to have this responsibility taken from her shoulders, even if only for a few hours.

Buffy saw her purse, and pulled out the book, "I almost forgot. This is for you," she said, handing him the book.

"I bought it for you when I was upstairs at The Rittenhouse. I think it’s pretty old, but I couldn’t read what year it is, because it’s in Roman numerals; something I’m pretty sure I learned, and promptly forgot back in fourth grade. In any case, I hope you like Shakespeare, The Complete Works of," Buffy said, smiling as Spike’s face lit up, like a little boy at Christmastime.

Spike took the book from her hand, like it was made of glass. He opened the front cover, inside which was written, "To William, From Elizabeth, February 14, 2003"

"You bought this for me?" he asked with a sort of wonder in his voice, as he looked from her to the book and back again. He didn’t remember the last time somebody had bought him a gift. Sure, he’d gotten the furnishings from Edna, and Dru use to bring him all sorts of strange gifts, like puppies and people to eat, but an actual store bought-paid-by-cash-gift? Never...at least not for well over one hundred years. It was also something that he _never_ expected Buffy to do for him.

He looked away before he could start to get choked up. He opened the first page and read the Roman numerals, "It says 1878. It really is quite old. I hope you didn’t pay too much for it, luv."

"Do you like it?" Buffy asked, not quite sure what the _quite old_ meant in terms of satisfaction.

"Oh God yes! It’s lovely Buffy, just lovely," Spike said, as he fingered the old leather binding. "It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever bought me."

She turned away, embarrassed. If this was the nicest thing…poor, Spike!

"Buffy?"

"Huh?"

"I forgot, luv. I got you something, too; when I was waiting for you, as well," Spike said.

He took the velvet box out from the pocket of his robe and handed it to her, not quite making eye contact.

"For me?"

He nodded, still holding out the purple, velvet, heart shaped box to her.

Buffy took it from him and opened it. Her eyes grew moist as she saw the beautiful, delicate, lovebird necklace. She took it from the box, gently tracing the shape of the lovebirds within the heart, and the cloisonné flowers. Now it was her turn to get misty-eyed as she turned to Spike.

"It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say."

"You like it, then?"

"No."

"No?" he said, with a sinking feeling, waiting for her to give it back to him, say something about why she couldn’t accept it from him, why…

"I don’t like it. I _love_ it!" Buffy said. She smiled and leaned over, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek, while whispering in his ear, "Thank you, Spike."

The relief was visible on his face and how he silently sighed in relief.

"Help me on with it?" she asked. She sat back up, turned sideways towards him, and held up her hair with one hand, and held out the necklace to him with the other.

Spike took it from her, and gently put it around her neck, securing the clasp at the back.

She felt it softly fall into place, as though it had always been hers, like it belonged.

"How does it look?" She asked, turning around to face him.

Spike gazed at the necklace, now gracing the long column of her neck, and coming to rest a couple of inches above her breasts, appreciatively. He nodded.

"It looks real nice, luv. Real nice," he said shyly.

"Matches my pajamas perfectly, doesn’t it? Hey, you weren’t going through my stuff again, were you?" Buffy joked, playfully elbowing him in the ribs.

"No, ‘fraid I gave that up that particular activity some time ago," he said with a soft laugh.

She was still looking down admiring the necklace when Spike stood up to put another log on the fire. When he was finished, he took the heavy rug that lay between them and the fireplace and pulled it up to the edge of the couch. He sat down, back against couch and looked up at her.

Buffy scooted to the front of the couch, then slid down to the floor so that she was sitting next to Spike.

They sat there watching the fire for a couple of minutes in silence.

"This is nice," Spike said.

"Um-hmm," Buffy agreed.

"Spike?"

"What, luv?"

"How much time have you spent here, at this house?"

"Oh, let me see…over the years? Maybe a total of 2 months or so, a couple of days here and there."

"That’s all?" Buffy asked, surprised. "Why not more? You’ve got this lovely house, money…"

"I don’t know, Buffy. Seems like the house, this area was…something else, something that’s outside of myself…outside my nature. Vampire, you know! Couldn’t just live herelike a _man_. I needed other things, the kill, the violence, the happy meals with legs, even the company of other demons. You know these things about me," Spike said, his voice strained.

Buffy nodded, remembering her own words to him last year.

 __

 _‘Poor Spikey, can't be a human, can't be a vampire. Where the hell do you fit in?’_

"Look, can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Okay," Buffy said, leaning up against him, hopefully reassuring him that she wasn’t there to either probe, or judge him; not here, not anymore, not after what he’d done for her, the lengths he’d gone…

And so they sat there, side-by-side, watching the fire and talking of small things for the next hour.

Spike looked over at Buffy, her eyes were closed and he knew she was almost asleep.

 __

 _Poor Slayer, all done in._

"Buffy?" he said gently shaking her.

"Huh?"

"Time to go to bed. Um…that is, you’re tired; should go to bed and get some sleep," Spike said, standing up and extending his hand to her.

 

"Yeah, you’re probably right," she answered with a yawn, and let him help her up.

They were standing in front of the fireplace, between the two bedrooms.

"Well, g’night, Buffy. Sleep well, luv. And don’t worry about the house in _SunnyD_. I’ll keep watching," Spike said.

She turned to look at him, so unreal in this setting.

"Goodnight, Spike," she said, and once again, taking the initiative, she kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, for everything," she added, as she went into the bedroom.

She turned down the covers and crawled into bed. She was sort of melancholy that Spike hadn’t even _slightly_ suggested to her that she _might_ want to share _his_ bed.

Of course, she would’ve told him, _‘No,’_ but still…Before she could finish the thought, she drifted off to sleep.

END OF CHAPTER 13

　

　

　

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally the name of this chapter was: DANS LA MAISON DE WILLIAM - which roughly translates to 'In William's House'. Why I chose a French title in the middle of this story is as much a mystery to myself as it may be to you, my readers. However, in keeping with the rewriting of this story, as well as its integrity, I thought a name change was in order.
> 
> Also, I will probably post a couple of chapters together next time I post, as they're rather short.
> 
> As always, feedback is welcomed. :)


	14. MY EYES ARE CLEAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After awaking from a nightmare, Buffy makes a decision. She may be able to deny her feelings for Spike to her friends and Watcher, but she can't deny them to herself anymore. Nor does she want to...

****

**CHAPTER 14 - MY EYES ARE CLEAR**

 _"Spike!"_

Buffy had only been asleep for a couple of hours when she bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding from one of the familiar, rotating nightmares she’d been having over the past few months. Her heart rate finally slowed as the last vestiges of it faded; but she was pretty sure this one had to do with him somehow, if her dream-scream was anything to go by. Taking stock of where she was, she decided to get up and splash some cold water on her face.

As Buffy stood in the doorway of the bathroom, she saw a little light flickering between two pieces of rough wood paneling that didn’t quite fit tight against each other. Without turning on the light switch, she quietly walked across the bathroom floor. Peeking into the tiny opening, she could barely see anything at first. As her eyes grew accustomed to what she now perceived as candlelight, she could make him out.

Spike was lying in bed, tossing and turning. Suddenly, he threw the covers off. Groaning, he lay there naked, as Buffy held her breath, afraid he’d sense her, but he didn’t look her way. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her whole body flush with warmth, as he ran his hands down his chest, his stomach, and finally to his cock. Mesmerized, she watched as he rubbed himself gently at first, then quickened the pace, as his erection quickly grew to its full length. She thought she could even see the glistening shimmer of pre-cum as he stroked himself again and again, before he finally convulsed in orgasm. As he did, she heard him softly moan one word: _"Buffy!"_

Biting down hard on her bottom lip, so she wouldn’t sob aloud, she quickly backed out of the room. In the past, she would have felt revulsion at even _imagining_ him pleasuring himself, let alone, being the _object_ of said fantasy, probably with the aid of some picture of herself, or intimate article of clothing he’d nicked from her bedroom.

Not now, though. Now it was breaking her heart.

 __

 _Did you make me weak, thinking of you, holding myself, and spilling useless buckets of salt over your... ending?_

Finally, Buffy allowed the tears to come, as she put her hands to her face. Useless buckets of tears, useless seed, useless torture, useless love… _for her_. Still the tears flowed, thinking of him lying there; his passion and love for her - unclaimed, unbidden, and abandoned – like this beautiful house.

Ever since she’d thought she’d never see him again when he’d been kidnapped by _The Firs_ t, she’d _known._ Shemay have still been able to lie to her friends and Giles about her feelings for Spike, but she could no longer lie to herself.

"No more! No _fucking_ more!"

She dried her eyes and resolutely marched out of her bedroom and into Spike’s.

Spike was only fitfully sleeping, when he was suddenly startled awake by Buffy’s presence, right next to his bed. He lifted himself up on his elbows.

"Buffy? What is it, luv? Bad dream? Everything’s okay at the house, just checked," he rambled.

"Shut up, Spike," she said softly and crawled into bed with him. He lay back down as she nuzzled up to his side.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he adjusted his arms to make her comfortable.

Just wants more comfort, he told himself. Alright then. Not a problem on his end. Bird’s got to have what the bird’s got to have. Never could deny her anything…

Before he could form another barely coherent thought, Buffy lifted up her face, until his eyes met hers, then kissed him on the lips softly at first, then deepened it. Shocked, Spike didn’t respond for a few seconds. Then, he was kissing her back; letting his self get lost in this glorious aura of sensation that suddenly seemed to surround them. It was all enveloping - this feel of her lips, their kisses, the heat of their passion, her aura…and it unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

Coming back to earth for a second, Spike broke off the kiss, gently taking hold of her shoulders, and pushing her back a few inches. His voice was raspy, as he spoke, but he had to give her a chance to come to her senses before it was too late.

"Buffy, luv? Do you know what you’re doing?"

His breath caught in his throat, as Buffy looked at him with a look of warmth and understanding…and _something else_ , that he’d only seen one other time; the night she’d come to rescue him from _The First_.

Smiling softly at him, she put her hand up to caress his face.

"I do know, Spike. Maybe for the first time since you’ve known me, I _do_ know. My eyes are clear. And I’m kissing the man that I love," Buffy said, and leaned back in for another delicious, all-enveloping kiss.

" _That you_ _love_?" Spike sputtered, breaking the kiss again, and holding her off to look into her eyes in wonder.

Buffy did not waver as she looked at him, but slowly and effortlessly, she maneuvered her lithe body atop his. The lovebird necklace hung from her neck to rest on top his chest, "Yes," she said looking in his eyes, kissing him softly between each word, "I. Love.You. Spike."

" _You love me_?" he repeated, unbelieving, afraid to believe.

Buffy nodded her head, "Yes. I love you. And if this man still wants me to, I’d like to be his girl," she said, kissing him deeply, as her body, moving of its own accord, rocked against his full erection.

Lost in the astonishing moment, Spike groaned as his body responded to hers. Suddenly the words sunk in.

"My girl? _My girl_! Oh God, Buffy!" Grinning, he grabbed her face, kissing her back as fully as he wanted, as she wanted, finally giving in to the incomprehensible, and the unbelievable; love claimed and bidden, by her, by him, by both of them this time.

END OF CHAPTER 14


	15. W & E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream(ing) Edna and Dream Lawrence take a look back at their lives, and the origin of the lovebird necklace.

****

**CHAPTER 15 – W & E**

It was late when Edna finally got to bed. She grabbed her nightcap and put it on, crawling under the covers.

"Right old granny, I am," she chuckled to herself. "Ah well, old habits die hard, and it's right chilly in this old place."

He came to her, as he often did, after she'd been asleep for only a few minutes. The dreams would last hours and she always looked forward to them. Sometimes they went back to the old country; sometimes they were young, other times older. Sometimes he would even appear to her, as he would have looked, if only he hadn't died so long ago.

As always, upon first seeing him, she'd ask him the same question, "Is it time for me to join you yet?"

"No darling, not yet. We'll just have our normal visit, like always. Where would you like to go tonight?"

"I think I'm right happy here tonight. Is that alright? No wait, let me see where you got it, when you gave it to me."

"Oh, you knew I'd know about it, didn't you?"

"Can't hide anything from you, Lawrence," Edna said.

"No, you're a right open book, ye are," he said, laughing.

"So, tell me all about it; about them," Lawrence coached.

"Ah, it's been so long since I'd seen him, but you know him, never changes anything but the clothes and the hair. But there was something different about him this time. Can't quite put my finger on it; it was like he was softer, somehow. A little less afraid to be kidded with, approached. Ach, I don't know what I'm talkin' about".

"Yes you do, you've always known that your Master William was a..."

"Don't say it!"

"Loner, Edna, just going to say loner."

"No, he's not a loner. Lonely is what he's been, always lonely. Guess his type always is..."

"But he wasn't alone tonight?" Lawrence asked.

"No, that was what was so exciting. In all these years, never seen him, nor his _father_ or _grandfathe_ r, with anyone what so ever, but tonight," she said, her eyes shining, "tonight he brought a lovely young lass with him. Elizabeth!"

"Nice name."

"Yes, it is. She's charming, smart, bright, and Master William is _completely_ in love with her.

"He told you?"

"Of course not; not his way, but I can tell!" Edna said.

"And her?" Lawrence asked.

Edna nodded. "I do believe that she loves our William with all her heart, as well. Although, I could tell that he doesn't quite know that as of yet, I have a feeling he will soon."

"You've always been so romantic, Edna," Lawrence said, chuckling.

"As were you, my dear. As were you," Edna said, taking his hand.

"Right you are. Never much fancied myself as such, until I met you, my love. Then all bets were off!"

Edna leaned into his shoulder, a contented look on her face.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Elizabeth bought him a gift, too. She found that old Shakespeare book that's been here for ages."

"Ah, the one I hid up on the top shelf? I remember…"he said, reflecting for a moment. "I'm glad to see someone will get some pleasure out of it."

She nodded.

"And the necklace?" he asked her gently.

"Ah, the necklace. You see, the sign had fallen off of the door, so Master William just assumed everything inside the antique room was for sale, and just another part of the shop," she explained.

"I understand. But won't you miss it, my dear?" Lawrence asked.

"Master William was so pleased to have found something for Elizabeth, I just didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't for sale. Besides, I'll always see it, here," Edna said, putting her hand over her heart. "Whenever I want to, I just have to close my eyes. I'm just so glad that it's going to have a whole new life of it's own. _Our_ lovebirds, gone home with those two lovebirds. That's what they are, you know."

"I know, my dear, I know," he said, putting his arm around her.

"Did he look at the back of it?" Lawrence asked her.

"The back? Oh, the letters, W & E? No, I don’t believe he did, though I’ll bet one of them will find it sooner or later. Speaking of those letters, I never knew why you didn't just use the initial of the name you went by. After all, that was the name you gave me when you came a-courting," Edna said.

"I just thought I should be formal about it, since it was an engagement present for you. That's why I had them put the 'W,' for Wallace."

"Wallace Lawrence McKennitt. It's a grand name."

"I just thought of something. Do you realize that those letters go with their names, too?" he asked her.

"William and Elizabeth," she said, smiling.

"Ah, you knew all along, didn't you? You’re a crafty one!"

She giggled.

"Well, my dear, shall we be off on our travels then?" Lawrence asked, standing up and extending his hand to her.

"Oh, yes! Please let's go! I can hardly wait to see it all again," Edna said, and taking his hand, they once again embarked on their nightly travels.

END OF CHAPTER 15


End file.
